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THE VATICAN 

OR 

The Heir of Limerick 


BY 

ESIDORE KERFOOT 



Chicago, 1904 



j UBhA!-:Y c-f 

! iWO tiClIc^VC'J 

NOV 18 4i)f04 

Tlenf. iqctl 

CUSS ^ XXc. NO! 

^o§ 

COPY B. 



Copyright, 1904, by Esidore Kerfoot 






» # 

* * 


To the Memory of My Mother. 

— The Author, 














Introduction 


Dear Reader: — 

It is customary to omit preface. I beg you to 
make an exception in my case. This is not a work 
of fiction, it is a record of facts. Therefore, the 
reader will not expect me to dispose of its various 
characters on artistic principles, that is, lay them 
away in one of those final receptacles for the 
creation of the romancer. 

The characters 1 have introduced are real and 
not drawn with the pencil of fancy. Some may 
think the heroine of the story is rather overdrawn 
and that the influence exerted over rougher natures 
exceeds the bounds of probability, and yet who 
shall set limits to those gracious influences which 
may be exerted by one so faultless and pure upon 
ruder natures ? 

VVe are apt to forget the Prophet’s vision of the 
latter day glory of the Church, when the wolf shall 
dwell with the lamb and the leopard shall lie down 
with the kid, and the calf and the young lion and 
the falling together, and a little child shall lead 
them. 

It is the unseen forces of nature, and those which 
operate most noiselessly, which are the most power- 
ful; and eye hath not seen, neither hath ear 
heard, nor hath entered into the imagination of man 
the forces which are most potent in forming the 
characters of individual men and shaping the 
destiny of the race. 

By the Author, 

Esidore Kerfoot. 



THE VATICAN 

OR 

THE HEIR OF LIMERICK 

CHAPTER I 

In 1849 Mary Russell was deprived, by 
death, of her father, he being massacred, with 
many others, by the Indians, while crossing 
the plains to regain his health and increase his 
fortune in California, leaving his wife and 
three children, Mary and Harold being twins 
and the oldest, in comfortable circumstances 
and a beautiful home of their own in the 
suburbs of Philadelphia. It was a large and 
aristocratic looking gray stone house, very 
much after the style of Mr. Russell’s home in 
London, with its wide verandas and its mas- 
sive columns, covered with Virginia ivy. The 
lawns were shaded with beautiful elm trees. 
The interior of the house, with its massive 
mahogany doors and stair-cases, with drawing- 
rooms and music-room on one side and library 
5 


6 


The Vatican, Or 


well filled with the best literature, and dining- 
room on the other side, with large fire-places 
and massive brass fenders and fire-dogs. The 
furnishings throughout the house were in keep- 
ing with the house itself; it was a unique and 
beautiful home. 

Mr. Russell’s partner, William Mavor, being 
the older of the two and a native of America, 
encouraged him to go, telling him it would 
benefit his health, and also give him an oppor- 
tunity of seeing the beautiful western country, 
and that he would take good care of his family 
and business until he returned to them again. 

Mary Russell was born in the old illustrious 
town of Sidney. Its name which carries with 
it, shows the attestation of its genuine nobility. 
Her parents were Highly cultured and respect- 
able people. They were not merely of the 
aristocracy of rank, but of the aristocracy of 
mind. She came to America with them at the 
age of nine. 

Mary’s parents were born in London. Her 
mother was the only child of Squire Jerome 
Maxwell, a barrister to the Queen’s bench, and 


The Heir of Limerick 7 

an officer in the Revolutionary war. His 
daughter inherited a comfortable fortune at his 
death. Mary’s mother was a fine linguist and 
a talented musician. Her father was a gradu- 
ate of Oxford, a good Christian man, and the 
only child of a widowed mother. Being hon- 
est himself, he considered every one else the 
same; he entrusted his family and fortune to 
the care of a silent partner, a comparative 
stranger to him. 

Mary’s thoughts far exceeded her years. 
When she first saw her father’s partner, she did 
not like him, and always shrunk beneath his 
gaze; but as she was only a child, little atten- 
tion was paid to her seeming reticence. After 
Mr. Russell’s death, his wife knew, by being 
careful, the income from her husband’s busi- 
ness would more than support and educate her 
children. Shortly after the death of her hus- 
band, Mr. Mavor informed her that she must 
be very careful about her expenses, as busi- 
ness was not very good at the present time. 

Mrs. Russell’s income had commenced to 
lessen a great deal. Mr. Mavor had informed 


8 


The Vatican, Or 


her that in place of a further withdrawal of 
funds, he considered it to be necessary for her 
to replace her withdrawals, in order to tide the 
business over the dull times, as he called them. 

In the meantime he was building a fine resi- 
dence down on the Hudson for himself and 
family, while Mary’s mother was walking the 
floor at night, crying and wondering what 
would become of her and her little family, 
who were strangers in a strange land. At last 
Mr. Mavor informed her that she would have 
to put at least a thousand dollars more into the 
business, and it would have to be done imme- 
diately, telling her, if it became necessary, she 
would have to mortgage her home until it was 
sold, and he would try and do all he could to 
raise the money for her from some of his 
wife’s wealthy relatives, who lived out west. 
The poor woman, rather than have her children 
want, would sacrifice anything she had for 
their comfort and to care for them, until she 
could sell her home and business to take them 
back to England, putting the house into the 
hands of Mavor for sale, and, of course, he 


The Heir of Limerick 9 

was none to anxious to sell it, as he had got- 
ten so much of her fortune already he was 
going to do the best he could to get the rest. 
As time went on and the home was not yet 
sold, the beautiful furniture had to be mort- 
gaged for less than one-third of what it cost. 
Mr. Mayor’s son, who was a clerk in her hus- 
band’s business, and about to be married, was 
the mortgagee. After a while, one beautiful 
piece after another of the fine old family sil- 
ver, with the Maxwell coat-of-arms on, was 
pawned to the Mayors. As the house was not 
yet sold, and no income from the business was 
being received, Mrs. Russell began to teach 
music and French, when her little son, Jerome, 
the youngest of the children, was taken sick 
with the typhoid fever, and after lingering two 
or three weeks, went to sleep in the arms of 
Jesus 

Mrs Russell was a very proud and independ- 
ent woman. As long as she had anything to 
realize money on, she would not ask help from 
strangers, and in order to bury her little son, 
she was obliged to sacrifice her costly jewels 


10 


The Vatican, Or 


and wedding laces, many of them being old 
family heirlooms, handed down from genera- 
tion to generation. She had expected some day 
to give these to her little daughter to transmit 
as legacies to future posterity. 

The Mayors always had a little money when 
Mrs. Russell was obliged to make a sacrifice, 
telling her they were borrowing it from friends 
to accommodate her, knowing how embarrass- 
ing it would be for her to go to strangers. 

The poor woman, after the funeral of her 
little son, commenced to break down under 
the dreadful strain of losing husband, child 
and fortune, all in such a short time. The 
beautiful home that cost eighteen thousand 
dollars only a few years before, was under a 
mortgage now for one thousand dollars, Mavor 
telling her that as money was very scarce at 
the present time, that was all he could borrow 
for her, and three month’s interest out of that 
would have to be paid in advance, and the rest 
would have to go into the business right off. 
The poor sick and sorrowful woman, by this 
time, was satisfied there was something wrong. 


The Heir of Limerick 


IT 


but she could not help herself, knowing her 
Heavenly Father would bring all things to 
light some day. 

“Poor weary heart, by the cares of life oppressed, 

Is wandering in the shadow and sighing for a rest ; 
Weary heart, God is rest.” 

The poor woman could not stand the dread- 
ful strain any longer, and succumbed to the 
fever herself, she being out of her mind most 
of the time; her darling little daughter being 
her constant attendant day and night. For 
the first time, during Mrs. Russell’s sickness, 
she recognized her children and was conscious 
that she was going to leave them very'soon. 
She told Mary to guard the papers and care 
for Harold, praying that he would continue to 
be a good boy as she had always taught him to 
be. She knew Mary trusted in God, and that 
He would bring all hidden deeds to light. 

At that Mr. Mavor and his wife came into 
the room. Seeing that she was sinking fast, 
they tried to induce her to tell them where she 
kept all the valuable papers and other ^valu- 
ables in regard to the home and business. The 


12 


The Vatican, Or 


poor woman was only thinking of her God and 
what would become of her little children, with- 
out friends or relatives in America. Ignoring 
his question, and knowing what he meant, she 
prayed to God to protect her children until the 
time came when they would meet at the throne 
of Grace. 

After the death of Mrs. Russell, until the 
funeral, either Mavor or some of his family 
stayed at the Russell home all the time, and 
would not let the children out, fearing the 
neighbors might see and question them in 
regard to what was going to be done with them 
and their home. The evening before the 
funeral Mavor brought two small satchels in 
a carriage, and in the morning his wife handed 
them to Mary, telling her to pack a few articles 
of her own and Harold’s clothing in them, as 
Mr. Mavor was going to take them, after the 
funeral, to stay with some friends of theirs for 
a few days, until everything was settled; then 
he would bring them back. Mary said noth- 
ing, but did what she was told. It was her 
darling, dead mother, who was laid out in the 


The Heir of Limerick 


13 


parlor, that she was thinking of at that time, 
and not clothes. Mavor didn’t have the slightest 
idea of the foresight of this very young girl he 
had commenced to deal with. 

After her father’s death, Mary was her 
mother’s confidant in everything she did. 
Mrs. Russell always had her little daughter 
with her when she transacted any business with 
Mavor,calling her her little barrister, and telling 
her how much she was like her dear old grand- 
father Maxwell, and she wished he was living 
now to care for them all, but she trusted her 
Heavenly Father for that. 

Mary knew why Mavor was so anxious to 
find out where the valuable papers were kept, 
but he had no idea that she was the possessor 
of them; and when she was told to pack a few 
articles of her every-day clothes, and the poor- 
est of them at that, she packed the papers also, 
for where she went, they went too; but no one 
ever knew that but God and herself. Mrs. 
Russell’s neighbors were anxious to know what 
was going to be done with the children and 
their property, Mavor’s wife telling them Mrs. 


14 


The Vatican, Or 


Russell wished Mr. Mavor to put them in a 
boarding-school until they were of age, and it 
was his intention to do so right after the 
funeral. This explanation was all very satis- 
factory to the neighbors, they believing it to 
be true. 

The children were taken right from their 
mother’s grave over to New York and put in a 
Catholic orphan asylum. The little things 
clung to each other on the train, crying for 
their good Christian mother, for such she was. 
When they arrived at the asylum, it was long 
after dark. Mary cried most bitterly, saying 
to Mavor, “Are those your friends?” and ask- 
ing him what he was going to do with her 
brother. He told her he would take good care 
of him and they would soon see each other 
again, and if they ever dared to go back to 
Philadelphia, unless they had money to pay 
him for all his trouble and for burying their 
mother, he would bring them back and put 
them over on the island, telling them what a 
dreadful place it was. 

Poor Mary never rebelled against anything. 


The Heir of Limerick 15 

She kept silent and saw through it all, knowing 
how helpless and penniless they were, and 
only children in the hands of strangers. While 
Mavor was having a whispered conversation 
with Sister Raphael, Mary was talking to 
Harold, telling him to be a good, honest boy 
and remember his mother’s last words, and 
take everything to God in prayer, and trust 
Him for all and in all things. When Mavor 
got ready to take Harold away to put him in 
the asylum for boys, Mary kissed him again 
and again, handing him their mother’s Bible, 
saying, “May God be with you, my brother, 
and protect you, until we meet again.” 

Oh, what a very sad night that was for poor 
Mary, under the roof of an orphan asylum, 
separated from all she loved! But she knew 
that God was with her and would protect her 
from all sin. 

A few days after Mary was put in the 
asylum, a Mrs. Murphy called for a little girl 
who might be old enough to help with the 
housework and do chores for her board and 
clothes. 


i6 The Vatican, Or 

Two or three children were brought in for 
inspection, Mary Russell being among them. 
She was immediately chosen by Mrs. Murphy. 
Sister Raphael told Mrs. Murphy that no one 
could have her unless they sent her to school. 
The kind-hearted sister was sorry for Mary, 
telling her if Mrs. Murphy was not good to her 
to be sure and come right back to them again 
and they would try to procure another home 
for her. But the poor girl felt that any kind 
of a home was better than the asylum, and she 
was glad to be free once more, in hopes that 
she could find her brother. The Murphys lived 
in an old house of four rooms and a garret, 
where Mary slept. Mr. Murphy, when sober, 
worked on the wharves, loading and unloading 
steamers. They were very coarse people, 
utterly without either education or ambition. 
Their earthly belongings, besides a little old 
furniture, consisted of a couple of cows and 
some chickens. This is the kind of a home 
the little refined Mary Russell commenced her 
orphan life in. 

Her little heart was stilled now by every 


The Heir of Limerick 17 

anxious care; she was going to leave all things 
to Him in perfect rest and prayer. The first 
thing Mrs. Murphy did after getting Mary 
home was to cut off her beautiful auburn curls. 
When she saw the scissors in Mrs. Murphy’s 
hands, she cried and begged her not to cut 
them off, for she said her darling dead mother 
used to comb and curl them and kiss her on 
the head, calling her her curly-headed darling. 
Oh, how the tears did flow from her beautiful 
mild brown eyes, with their long lashes and 
arched brow! As the scissors went through 
her beautiful hair, Mrs. Murphy slapped her in 
the face and pulled her hair, telling her to stop 
crying or she would give her more than that to 
cry for. Oh, cruel death, what a change from 
a happy Christian home and a clean-spread 
table, where a blessing was always asked, to 
that of ignorance and poverty! When Mary 
went to the table, she waited for the blessing, 
as was her usual way at home. Mr. Murphy 
asked her what she was waiting for. She told 
him for the blessing. In a sneering way he 
looked at his wife and told her they didn't 


i8 The Vatican, Or 

have anything like that on the table. Mrs. 
Murphy smiled and told Mary she must do 
away with all that kind of foolishness now. 
She also told her she must never tell any one 
where she took her from, or that her name was 
Mary Russell, for she would now be called 
Mary Murphy. The poor girl was always glad 
when night came, though it was in the garret 
she, had to sleep, so that she could be alone 
.with her God. When she was asked if she 
was afraid to sleep up there alone, she said, 
“Oh, no,” she could never be alone, for God 
was everywhere. Mrs. Russel had taught her 
children early in life, though their earthly 
father could leave them, their Heavenly Father 
would never leave them or forsake them. 

Poor Mary prayed fervently to God to pro- 
tect her and her brother wherever he was, and 
that she might see him soon again. She had 
to work very hard for the Murphys, helping 
with the work and delivering milk before and 
after school. When out of school, the only 
time she had for study was at night in the old 
garret, by the light of a candle. Every night 


The Heir of Limerick 


19 


before she commenced to study she thanked 
God for the blessing of the day and asked 
Him in the name of Jesus to increase her 
knowledge and understanding, and fill her 
with the wisdom of the Holy Ghost, that in it 
she might glorify His name. Professor 
Graham knew how hard she had to work, and 
marvelled at her progress and wisdom in 
school, always bringing her up as an example 
to her class. The girls in Mary’s room and 
class were very jealous of her, because she was 
always at the head of the class before school 
was out, and did not notice her when out of 
school, on account of her humble position and 
poor clothes. Mary prayed to God to give her 
grace to bear these slights and insults, know- 
ing it was not good clothes or high social 
position that pleased her Heavenly Father, but 
good works and righteousness. She was a 
very conscientious and independent girl, and 
was not ashamed of her humble position, 
but thanked God for giving her strength and 
knowledge to work for her living. 

The Grahams were very fond of her and were 


20 


The Vatican, Or 


satisfied that she had seen better days, and saw 
from her manners that she was beautifully 
raised; but whenever they would ask her any- 
thing of her former life and home, she would 
look at them in such a sweet, pathetic way, as 
much as to say, “Please don’t ask me,*^ and 
that was all they could get out of her. They 
were very anxious to have her leave the Mur- 
phys, and would gladly take her as their own 
child, for they had only one, a son, four or five 
years older than Mary, who, in a short time, 
would be leaving them to go abroad and enter 
college in Berlin. Mary told them she would 
not leave the Murphys under any circum- 
stances, saying that she believed her Heavenly 
Father had a purpose in her being with them, 
and she was going to do God’s will in all 
things, no matter how hard it might be, and 
some time they would understand why it was 
all so. 

The next morning was very dark and rainy, 
and Mary, not feeling well, forgot to deliver 
the milk to Mrs. Hickey, and as the Hickeys 
and the Murphys were very warm friends, it 


The Heir of Limerick 21 

was the cause of Mary getting a dreadful scold- 
ing after she came home from school that day, 
and she was not allowed any supper that eve- 
ning. The poor girl did not sleep very much 
that night, thinking of the past and wondering 
what God had in store for her in the future. 

As she was a little late in getting downstairs 
next morning, Mrs. Murphy crept upstairs in 
her stocking feet and found her on her knees, 
praying; so she stole up behind her, catch- 
ing her by the hair and kicking her. Just as 
she was about to strike her, the poor girl raised 
her hands to protect herself, and looking Mrs. 
Murphy straight in the face, said, “Please 
don’t, God is looking at you,’’ and cried aloud 
to her Heavenly Father to give ear to her 
prayer and supplication. The prayers uttered 
by Mary that morning touched the cold, 
ignorant woman’s heart, and haunted her all 
day. For the first time in her life Mrs. 
Murphy was convicted of sin. Oh, how anx- 
ious she was to see the dear girl that after- 
noon, fearing that when she came home, it 
would be for her few clothes, and to leave 


22 The Vatican, Or 

them. As the school was a mile and a half 
from the Murphys’, she could not get home at 
noon, so she spent that hour in prayer and 
reading her little Testament, which she always 
carried in her pocket. Professor Graham's 
family lived only a short distance from the 
school, and as long as they could not have 
Mary live with them as their daughter, they 
did all they could to have her as their lunch 
guest. This Mary declined, thanking them 
most kindly and telling them she preferred to 
have that hour for spiritual food, in company 
with her Heavenly Father. 

That afternoon, when Mary got home, she 
found Mrs. Murphy crying, for Mr Murphy 
had lost his position on account of being 
drunk just one time too often, and this caused 
his wife great sorrow, not knowing when or 
how he would get another place. Though she 
had brought tears to Mary’s eyes many a time 
with unkind words and cruel blows, Mary 
could not bear to see her or any one else 
crying. The lovely girl put her arms 
around Mrs. Murphy’s neck, and said, “Don’t 


The Heir of Limerick 


23 


cry, come, carry your burdens to Jesus, pour 
out your heart to Him and trust in His 
mercy,” telling her that is what she always 
did. At that Mr. Murphy woke up out of a 
drunken stupor, and commenced to beat and 
abuse his wife, when Mary, quick as a flash, 
stepped in between them, receiving the blow 
that was intended for Mrs. Murphy, cutting her 
on the side of the head. The blood corhmenced 
to flow in profusion, which scared Mr. Murphy 
so much that he commenced to sober up and 
was very sorry, doing all he could for the poor 
girl. Mary, with a wet cloth to her head, and 
tears in her beautiful eyes, looked Mr. Mur- 
phy straight in the face and said: “Oh, did 
you ever think of the innocent blood that 
Christ shed on Calvary’s cross for sinners? and 
there was no one that wiped the blood away 
from His sacred wounds. That same Jesus 
suffered for your sins and mine. Won’t you sur- 
render your will and come to Him now? ‘For 
God so loved the world that He gave His only 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him, 
should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ ” 


24 


The Vatican, Or 


Mr. Murphy looked at Mary for a minute 
or two, and said: “Mary, how can you be so 
kind and forgiving and stay with people who 
have treated you as we have, when you know 
that you don't have to?” She told him when 
God could stand by sinners and forgive them, 
she could do so too. When Mrs. Murphy saw 
what Mary had done to save her from the cruel 
blow, she put her arms around her neck and 
asked her forgiveness for all the cruel words 
and blows she had given her. Mary took 
her by the hand and led her over to where her 
husband stood, saying, “I know you both love 
each other, and it is only sin that makes you 
cruel and unkind. Come, let us pray.” While 
they were yet on their knees, and Mary was 
invoking God’s blessing upon them, a loud 
knock came to the door, and in staggered Jim 
Daily and big Mike Hurley, who was consid- 
ered the bully of the ward. They were half 
drunk, and tried to get Mr. Murphy out with 
them; but he said to them: “Not to-night, boys, 
not to-night. Come and listen to the story that 
little Mary has to tell of Jesus and His love.” 


The Heir of Limerick 


25 


But that was not the kind of a story they 
wanted to hear just then. Catching hold of 
Mr. Murphy by the arm, they said, “By gob, 
you must come down to the corner with us, old 
boy, and then we’ll come back again and hear 
the story.’’ But Mary knew her efforts would 
be futile this time if they got down to the 
corner, for that meant a night’s carousal at 
Billy Ford’s saloon, and as quick as a flash, 
she said to Mrs. Murphy: “Please hurry up 
and make a good strong cup of coffee for 
them. I don’t think the poor fellows have 
had anything to eat since morning, and that 
will help sober them up, as they have been 
drinking, and I will sing a song for them.’’ 
Just as they had reached the door, pulling Mr. 
Murphy by the arm, Mary ran up to them in a 
pleading way and said, “Oh, please come 
back. If you don’t care to hear the story, 
I can sing you a good Irish song. Oh, do 
come back, and you can go afterwards if you 
must.’’ The poor girl, with a sad heart 
and aching head, commenced to sing the 
song: 


26 


The Vatican, Or 


“There is a dear spot in Ireland that I long to see, 
'Tis my old native birth-place, and it’s Heaven to 
me. 

Sure, my poor widowed mother lived there alone, 
With my brothers and sisters ’twas a bright, happy 
home. 

Sure we hadn’t much money, but my own mother 
dear 

Gave me her blessing, bid my heart be of good 
cheer, 

Then the shadows of poverty darkened our door. 
And I left Ireland and mother, because we were 
poor. 

They all looked at Mary with a very sad 
countenance, and especially Mr. Murphy and 
his wife, when they saw her poor little head 
tied up and she trying to sing to keep their 
drunken friends from the saloon. It was the 
first time the Murphys ever heard a note of 
music from the dear girl, and they were very 
much surprised, saying it sounded to their ears 
like the thrush and the nightingale in their own 
native land. 

Mrs. Murphy invited the men to sit down to 
a good cup of coffee and some supper, telling 
them that Mary would sing again as soon as 
they had finished. After supper the men were 


27 


The Heir of^ Limerick 

quite sobered up, and asked Mrs. Murphy for 
water so that they could wash themselves, for 
they now realized their pitiable condition. As 
soon as they were through, Mary sang: 

“The valley lay smiling before me, where lately I 
left her behind, 

Yet I trembled and something hung o’er me that 
saddened the joy of my mind, 

I looked for the lamp which she told me should 
shine when her pilgrim returned, 

But though darkness began to infold me, no lamp 
from the battlement burned.” 

These were the songs of their own native 
isle, sung so sweetly and pathetically by her 
that it touched a tender chord in their hearts. 
Jim Daily, in a sobbing voice, said: “Oh, what 
a fool and a wretch liquor makes of any one.“ 
At that Mr. Murphy stood up, raising his hand 
towards Heaven, and said, with the help of 
God, he had taken his last drink of liquor or 
anything else that would harm him or be the 
cause of his doing harm to others, and after 
this he would be a better man than he had 
ever been before in his life. 

Then Mary told them the story of the 
Prodigal Son, how he came to his father, hun- 


28 


The Vatican, Or 


gry, dirty and ragged, and with open arms his 
father received him, and gave him the best he 
had to give, and that was the way they should 
come to their Heavenly Father and He would 
receive them and forgive them all their sins, 
remembering them no more. Mary told them 
He was not a dead Jesus; though He died for 
our sins He arose again for our justification. 
Then she begged them with tears in her eyes to 
get down on their knees and make a complete 
surrender to God, confessing their sins in the 
silence of their heart, and if they had ever 
harmed anybody in thought, word, or action, 
to do all they could to right that wrong and 
He would forgive them. While they were on 
their knees, crying and praying, Mary sang in 
a sweet, low voice: 

“Pass me not, O gentle Saviour, hear my humble 
cry, 

While on others Thou art shining, do not pass me 
by.” 

Mr. Murphy cried aloud to God for mercy 
and forgiveness, while yet on his knees, and 
the rest sobbed like children. Mary prayed 
aloud to God to have mercy on them and take 


The Heir of Limerick 


29 


away the dreadful craving for liquor and 
deliver them from the chains of sin that held 
them so tight. Mike Hurley said: “Yes, 
Lord, forgive us our sins, for Jesus’ sake.” 
Jim Daily, while yet on his knees, prayed to 
their Heavenly Father for forgiveness and 
deliverance, asking Mary if she thought He 
could forgive such a wretch as him. At that 
Mary sang before they arose from their knees: 

“Arise and shine, thy light has come, 

The Lord hath made thee free ; 

The chains of darkness bind no more. 

Go forth in liberty.” 

That night, before the men went home, they 
told Mr. Murphy they didn’t think they would 
work the next afternoon, as it was Saturday, 
and they would like to come down to the house 
and hear Mary read the Bible and sing and 
pray for them again, for they never felt hap- 
pier in all their lives than they did now. Each 
one of them gave Mary some money to buy a 
Bible for him. As Mary didn’t have to go to 
school the next day, she and Mrs. Murphy 
hurried up with the work, and Mr. Murphy 
slipped down to Billy Ford’s saloon, to ask 


The Vatican, Or 


30 

him if he wouldn’t like to come down to the 
house awhile in the afternoon, that the gang, 
as they were called, were going to be there. 
Ford wondered what all that meant; Murphy 
himself looking so very respectable and clean, 
and knowing when the boys didn’t work on 
Saturday they always spent their time and 
money at his place, asking Mr. Murphy if they 
were going to have a christening down there. 
Mr. Murphy told him as long as he was in- 
vited, it was his privilege to come and see for 
himself. As Mr. Murphy was going out the 
door. Ford asked him to come and have a 
drink. He refused for the first time and in a 
gentlemanly way, which was a great surprise 
to Ford. He told him he had taken his last 
drink in that kind of a place, with the help of 
God, except it be a drink of water. Ford told 
Mr. Murphy that he would be down by 
all means, believing it would give him a 
good chance to get them all back with him 
again. 

When Ford came into the house, they were 
all there, and in place of drinking to the 


The Heir of Limerick 


31 


health of a newly-arrived baby, they were 
praising God for their new-born souls, and life 
from sin. While Mary was entertaining them 
with prayer and song, Mrs. Murphy was getting 
a good supper for them, so they would stay all 
the evening. When supper was ready. Ford was 
no more anxious to go than the rest. When 
they all sat down to eat, Mr. Murphy looked 
at Mary, and not forgetting the four or five 
years that had passed, when she, poor child, 
was waiting for the blessing to be asked, he 
said, “Mary, my girl," and his voice trembled, 
“God bless you, and will you ask the blessing 
now?" She asked God’s blessing on the 
material food and in a loud, clear voice, she 
asked Him to bless them and comfort them in 
all they might do, and give them bountifully 
of spiritual food, and that it might be to His 
honor and glory, in Jesus’ name, when they all 
responded “Amen!" Billy Ford being the 
loudest with his amen. 

Billy Ford was born among the hills of New 
Hampshire. His parents, whom he had not 
seen for many years, having left them when 


32 


The Vatican, Or 


but a boy of sixteen, were good Christian 
people. The last thing his mother did was to 
give him a Bible, telling him she hoped he 
would always live up to its teachings, and he 
would never do wrong. For years Ford had 
lived a very bad life, being separated from his 
wife and children. His viciousness was the 
direct cause of breaking up many another 
home besides his own. 

After supper, Mary said: “Now listen to 
God’s promise: ‘Come, now, let us reason 
together, saith the Lord, though your sins be 
as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; 
though they be red like crimson, they shall be 
as wool.’ ’’ 

As soon as she finished reading the Bible, 
Ford laid his hand upon the beautiful girl’s 
head, and said: “Well, my girl, your prayers 
and pleadings this afternoon have brought me 
back to God’s love and recollections of my 
boyhood days, and with the help of my Heav- 
enly Father, I will serve and honor Him as 
long as I live, and do all I can to bring others 
back to be good husbands, sons and brothers.’’ 




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The Heir of Limerick 33 

He then asked them all to come down to his 
place and bring their Bibles with them. 

As soon as they went in he said to the men, 
“Come, help me to throw out this cursed stuff 
that has been the cause of so much sin and sor- 
row in the world,” and in place of the usual 
Saturday night dance that was the cause of 
leading so many young men and women to 
hell, they would have a prayer-meeting. He 
asked Mary to open the meeting. She opened 
it by singing, “Nearer, My God, to Thee.” 
After the singing, Billy Ford asked God to 
have mercy on them and all sinners, and bring 
them back to the throne of grace. Mary asked 
many of them how long it had been since they 
heard from their dear old mothers, and if they 
were alive, to recall the days of their child- 
hood, when they prayed, at their mother’s 
knee. She told them that if they were willing 
to give up sin and accept Christ as their Sav- 
iour, He was willing to forgive them and take 
them back into His great heart of hearts. 
Many are the lost sheep that came back to 
their Shepherd that night, and in less than a 


The Vatican, Or 


34 

week there was a nice little wife and four chil- 
dren who returned to their father and husband, 
that sin had once robbed them of, and in place 
of it being the corner saloon, it is now the 
corner grocery store, kept by William Ford, a 
good Christian man, with his lovely wife and 
little family, all serving God and doing all in 
their power to win souls for the Master, while 
Mike Hurley returned to Detroit and married 
his old sweetheart, a good Christian girl, and 
the love of his early boyhood. James Daily 
stuck to his old job on the wharf, loading and 
unloading boats during the day, and doing all 
he could to save souls at night 
After Mr. Murphy’s old boss saw that he was 
a truly converted man, and had been the cause 
of converting so many others, he procured a 
fine position for him down in Albany, with the 
company. The only regret the Murphys had 
was in leaving Mary, after all she had suffered 
to make respectable people of them. She 
told them not to worry, for the same God 
that cared for her in the past would care 
for her in the future, and she could see now 


The Heir of Limerick 


35 

why she was deprived of her home and par- 
ents. 

That night Mary prayed fervently to her 
Heavenly Father as to where she would make 
her next home. She never tried to seek great 
things for herself, but her greatest aim in life 
was to make others happy, and to glorify 
God. 

The next morning many of the Murphys’ old 
friends and neighbors called to bid them good- 
bye. Among the rest was dear old Hiram 
Gray, the sexton of the little Presbyterian 
church not far from there, and his dear, good, 
little wife, who always loved Mary since she 
first saw her, and asked her if she would like 
to share their home for the few remaining 
months she had to finish her schooling. She 
was satisfied that it was in answer to her 
prayer, and gladly accepted the kind offer. 
She thanked her Heavenly Father for His 
unspeakable love, and asked Him to put it in 
her way to help those poor old people along, 
for all the means they had to live on was a 
small pension that he got for serving in the 


36 The Vatican, Or 

War of 1812, and what he earned from the 
church, and that was very little, as the congre- 
gation was poor. 

The Grays were very respectable people and 
had seen better days. Uncle Hiram, as all his 
friends called him, and his dear little wife. 
Aunt Sally, were distant relations, coming 
from good old colonial stock. Aunt Sally’s 
grandmother Taylor, using her homespun red 
petticoat for a flag, was one of the first women 
to wave and cheer for Washington, as he was 
crossing the Delaware. 

Uncle Hiram and Aunt Sally were raised on 
neighboring farms, in Newcastle on the Dela- 
ware, and commenced their married life on a 
little farm a few miles from there. 

When the War of 1812 broke out and Gov- 
ernor Snyder of Pennsylvania sent out a call 
for troops to repel the invasion of the British, 
Uncle Hiram was one of the first to respond to 
go forth to meet the enemy, leaving his wife 
to do what their mothers did before them, 
when their fathers went forth to fight for 
America’s independence; they left their wives 


The Heir of Limerick 


37 

fighting the battles at home, while the hus- 
bands fought the foe on the battle-field. 

Those were very trying times for Aunt Sally, 
she having to work on the farm during the day, 
and at night, by the light of a candle or a tal- 
low dip, while her little ones were sleeping, 
she carded or spun the wool for their clothes, 
as well as some to sell, in order that she could 
care for her family until her soldier hus.band 
returned to them again. 

At the battle of Lundy’s Lane, Uncle Hiram 
was wounded, and lay sick for a long time. 
At last they had to mortgage the little farm 
for which they had worked so hard. As time 
went on and money became very scarce and 
they could not meet the interest, the rich 
broker had no mercy for the poor wounded 
soldier or his family. They pleaded with him 
for lenience; but all in vain. At last the day 
came when they had to say good-bye to dear 
relatives and loving friends, and take a last 
look at the little home they loved so well and 
commenced their married life in; but the sad- 
dest spot of all to part from was the little 


38 


The Vatican, Or 


corner in the front yard under the shade of the 
spreading hemlock tree, it being the grave of 
their baby, Mary, who was the pride of their 
heart and sunshine of the little log house. 

After they moved over to New York, Uncle 
Hiram procured a position with the Northern 
Fur Company. On account of his cripled con- 
dition, his salary was not very large. Aunt 
Sally, the faithful little wife, helped along by 
knitting stockings and patching quilts, looking 
forward to the day when their only child, Phil, 
would be a man and help them. But before 
he had grown to manhood dissipation came 
into his life, and rather than disgrace his par- 
ents, he bade them farewell never to return. 
The only reminder they had of him was a pic- 
ture of a blue-eyed boy, taken when he was 
small. This hung in the parlor on the wall of 
their humble little cottage. It was often 
looked at with tearful eyes and prayerful 
hearts, wishing that they might see or hear 
• again from their long lost boy before they 
died. 

The next morning Mary started very early 


The Heir of Limerick 


39 


for school, stopping in at Professor Graham’s 
residence, to tell them all about her new home, 
very much to their displeasure, as they had 
looked forward to the time when she would 
leave the Murphys, and hoped that she would 
make her home with them. She told them 
that they did not need her help as God had 
blessed them with plenty, and dear old Uncle 
Hiram and Aunt Sally had nobody to love or 
care for them, and she felt that it was the will 
of God that she should do so. 

Mary told the Professor that if she could get 
a room to be used during the evenings, she 
thought she could get a few scholars, and in 
that way she could help the old folks and her- 
self along until she finished her schooling. 
The Grahams admired Mary’s beautiful, 
Christian spirit very much. The Professor 
told her she could have the largest room in 
school, and he hoped that she could get the 
scholars. 

After school that afternoon, the poor girl 
hastened over to the Hoboken docks, where 
James Daily worked, praying all the way that 


40 


The Vatican, Or 


she might be able to get a dozen or more 
scholars. The meeting between Mary and 
Daily was a very happy one, for he looked 
upon her as his guardian angel. She told him 
that she was trying to get up an evening class 
so that she could earn a little money and she 
thought maybe he could help her. He said it 
would be the joy of his heart to do so, also to 
come himself, as he had no educational advan- 
tages in his youth, as his parents, who still 
lived in Ireland, were very poor. Every even- 
ing Mary opened her school with prayer and 
song, asking Him to fill them with the wisdom 
of the Holy Ghost, and strengthen her in 
teaching them. After the first week she 
taught, it gave her great pleasure to take home 
her week’s earnings, it being the first money 
she ever received for services, handing it 
immediately to Aunt Sally, and telling her she 
must no longer strain her eyes to sew or knit 
for any one, as God' had sent her to be their 
Mary now, in place of the little one the angels 
had taken home many years ago. She kissed 
the tears away, saying all she wanted now of 


The Heir of Limerick 


41 


them in their old age was to praise God and be 
happy, for He had made her happy in doing for 
them. That night they thanked their Heav- 
enly Father for sending that lovely girl into 
their lives, in their feebleness and old age. 
Mary joined them in prayer for their unfortu- 
nate son, praying that they might hear from 
him again. The old folks saw how happy she 
was, and did not want to tell her the bad news 
until after Sunday, that Uncle Hiram had lost 
his place as sexton of the church because the 
congregation was too poor to pay him. 
Though Mary had to work very hard to sup- 
port her little family, attending school herself 
during the day, and teaching in the evening, 
she thanked God for every care, knowing that 
all things work together for good to those that 
love the Lord. Monday evening whe^ school 
opened, Mary was glad to see so many new 
scholars, wondering how she could teach them 
all and do justice to "each. While they were 
singing the opening hymn, the door opened 
quietly, and, greatly to her surprise and 
pleasure, it was Professor Graham, his wife 


42 


The Vatican, Or 


and son, the young lawyer, it being the first 
time Mary had seen him since he got^ back 
from college, though she had often heard of 
him. 


The Heir of Limerick 4 . 

CHAPTER II 
LITTLE PHIL 

Professor Graham told Mary he really 
thought she ought to have an assistant by this 
time, and he knew that Spencer would consider 
himself highly favored to be that one. Spen- 
cer’s mother smiled and told Mary she knew 
the only pay he wanted was seeing her home, 
and giving her a brother’s protection, as well 
as keeping himself out of mischief, Mrs. 
Graham noticing that Mary looked paler than 
usual, and was sure it was on account of her 
hard work and great responsibility, caring for 
others and not thinking of herself. As long as 
she could not persuade the dear girl to accept 
a home with them, the only thing she could do 
was to help her teach. They came two even- 
ings in the week, Spencer coming every even- 
ing, knowing it would be the only way they 
could help her for the few months that she 
would teach the school and graduate herself. 
There was only one evening in the week that 


43 


44 


The Vatican, Or 


Mary was alone with her scholars, ana mat was 
Saturday, to teach them what the Grahams did 
not care to teach, the Bible, though they were 
excellent people and members of the church. 
The Bible was the dearest book of all to Mary, 
and before she left she had convinced her 
entire class of its precious truths and power to 
save sinners. These were very happy lessons 
for her to teach, as they were all young men, 
and had lived sinful lives. She taught them 
there was no better policy than to give their 
hearts to Jesus, and take Him as their Saviour, 
Master and Friend, telling them to ask Him to 
come into their hearts and make them pure 
and sweet and strong. She taught them to fol- 
low in His footsteps, of self-sacrifice for others, 
and to put themselves into a position where 
they could please and glorify Him best, and 
that prayer and waiting on their Heavenly 
Father would untie the hardest kind of a knot, 
and unravel the greatest difficulty. She told 
them the atoning blood of the Son of God was 
all-sufficient to cover their sins when they had 
confessed to Him and surrendered all. 


The Heir of Limerick 45 

Spencer never came to Mary’s Bible class or 
prayer-meeting, though he was always waiting 
downstairs to see her home, and bring her 
some lucious fruit for Sunday. Saturday even- 
ing, as Mary and Spencer were coming out of 
the school-house, Mary noticed by the light of 
the street lamp a black object crouched down 
under the old oak tree, that shaded the school- 
yard near the gate. Thinking it might be a 
homeless, hungry dog that she could coax 
home and feed, greatly to her surprise it was a 
homeless, hungry child sleeping there. She 
awoke the little fellow, and he commenced to 
cry and beg her to let him stay there all night, 
telling her he had no place else to sleep, and 
he could not find his grandparents anywhere, 
and the boys down on the wharf beat him and 
chased him away, because he would not steal 
ropes and other things from the boats. The 
poor little fellow was scared almost to death, 
putting his little hands up to Mary, and tell- 
ing her he was not a bad boy, and begging her 
not to give him to the cop, or put him in the 
asylum, as he had run away from one in 


46 


The Vatican, Or 


Detroit. That touched the poor girl’s heart, 
thinking that was poor Harold’s fate, and 
knowing it would have been her own, if she 
had not gotten out the way she did. She told 
the little fellow he must come home with her 
now, where he would have a good clean bed 
and plenty to eat, telling him with tears in her 
eyes that once she had two little brothers and 
God took one and a bad man robbed her of 
the other. Spencer was very indignant at 
Mary for bothering with the little urchin, as he 
called him, and told her she had better look 
out more for herself, and not work so hard for 
others. Mary told him there was no want 
where one served God, for wherever He guided 
her and whatever He gave her to do, no one 
could prevent her from doing it, for she knew 
that Jesus was with her and nothing could she 
lack, and she preferred to please God rather 
than man. For Jesus said, “Whosoever shall 
receive such a little one in my name receiveth 
me.’’ Spencer did not speak a word to Mary 
all the way home, for he was so angry with her 
for what she did, but she went on her way 


The Heir of Limerick 47 

praying and rejoicing, and happier than if she 
found the greatest jewels of the sea, or had the 
millions of treasure lying idle in the Bank of 
England. 

As the little fellow was too dirty to take 
through Aunt Sally’s clean house, Mary took 
him around to the woodshed, that was attached 
to the kitchen, and calling to Aunt Sally and 
Uncle Hiram to come quick and see her little 
escort, and not to ask him any questions until 
he was washed and fed. She told Aunt Sally 
to hurry up and put a boiler of water on the 
stove while she hurried Uncle Hiram off to 
the apothecary shop to get a fine-toothed 
comb, and some blue ointment. It being 
Saturday night, Mary had her week’s wages. 
Fearing that the stores would be all closed, she 
gave the little fellow a big piece of fresh bread 
and butter with sugar on it, while Aunt Sally 
hunted for the tape measure that she had used 
many a time to measure cloth down on the old 
farm, after she wove it for the market. The 
little fellow was dreadfully scared, when Mary 
commenced to take his measure for clothes and 


48 


The Vatican, Or 


boots, but Aunt Sally told him not to worry, 
that no harm would come to him now, that 
Mary was going to buy him some clothes. Just 
as the poor girl got to Markes’ clothing store, 
he had just commenced to put up the shutters. 
Mary told him she must get some clothes for a 
little boy that she found that evening, as to- 
morrow was Sunday, and he didn’t have any- 
thing to put on, for she would be obliged to 
burn his old ones. Markes was only too glad 
to make another sale, if he had to get out of 
bed to do it. Though Mary was trying to save 
up a little money for a new pair of gloves and 
shoes for herself, as she needed them very 
badly, but they were all forgotten, when she 
thought of the little ragged fellow waiting for 
her in the woodshed, to be fed and clothed as 
soon as she got home with the clothes, and a 
pair of red-topped boots and a bootjack that 
Markes threw in in the bargain. When the 
little fellow saw them, he commenced to laugh 
and cry at the same time. Though poor Mary 
was very tired from her week’s hard work, still 
she was very happy in finding the little fellow 


The Heir of Limerick 49 

and having money to buy clothes for him, and 
enough left to feed them all for another week. 
She hurried to change her dress before she 
washed him, as it was the only good one she 
had to wear for school and Sunday. While 
Aunt Sally held the candle, Mary stripped 
him, putting him in the tub of good warm 
water and using some of Aunt Sally’s nice 
home-made soap. She scrubbed his head and 
body well. After rinsing him with clean warm 
water, Uncle Hiram brought an old clean sheet 
and Mary wrapped him in it. After he was 
dried and his hair was combed, she was startled 
by his resemblance to Aunt Sally, and the 
picture of their son that hung in the hum- 
ble little parlor, on the wall. She kept silent 
and watched the old folks looking at him with 
tears streaming down their old withered 
cheeks. Not a word was spoken by any one 
until he finished his supper that Mary had 
toiled so hard to provide. After supper she 
put one of Aunt Sally’s night-gowns on him, 
and wrapped him in her old blanket shawl, 
then they all went into the little parlor, Mary 


50 


The Vatican, Or 


fixing all three of them on the high-backed 
black hair sofa with the little fellow in the 
middle, while she sat in the old cane rocker 
before them 

She asked him what his name was and where 
he came from, and who his parents were. He 
told her he never had any parents, and she 
asked him where his mother was. He told her 
he never had any mother, and that he and his 
father used to live at Sarney, in Canada, and 
his papa got drunk most all the time, and was 
drowned from a boat. After that, Pat 
Maloney, a friend of his papa’s, put him in an 
orphan asylum in Detroit and because they 
licked him, and didn’t give him hardly any- 
thing to eat, he ran away the first chance he 
got, and his papa always told him if he ever 
got any money to buy some good clothes and 
look like a respectable man, he would take 
him down to New York with him to see his 
grand-parents. 

Mary asked him how he got up to New York. 
He told her he got on a boat and the captain 
was a good man and knew his papa, and took 


The Heir of Limerick 51 

him as far as Buffalo, then he gave him to a 
conductor of the New York Central, and he 
brought him to New York. 

She asked him what his name was. He said 
his name was Phil. She asked him what his 
other name was. He told her his whole name 
was Philip Hiram Gray, after his papa. Mary 
put her arms around him, hugging and kissing 
him good, and said: “God bless you, and wel- 
come you to our home, little Phil. It is yours 
now, and here are grandpa and grandma, and 
a big sister, too." Poor Aunt Sally fainted, 
and Uncle Hiram could not speak for grief or 
joy. 

When the old folks got over their dreadful 
surprise little Phil stood by them, looking 
first at one and then the other, and though he 
was only eight or nine years old, he took in the 
whole situation and hugged and kissed them 
all. After that Mary called them grandma and 
grandpa, so that little Phil would become 
accustomed to the name and call it to them 
freely. 

There were four very happy hearts and souls 


52 


The Vatican, Or 


in that little cottage that night. The next 
morning there was a proud grandpa with a 
handsome, well-dressed little grandson hold- 
ing him by the hand, going to church. The 
excitement was too much for poor Aunt Sally, 
and Mary had to stay home and take care of 
her. 

That evening Spencer did not have the 
pleasure of meeting Mary at church or seeing 
her home, which was a great disappointment 
to him, especially on account of the little 
quarrel the evening previous. 

The news of finding little Phil spread 
through the neighborhood like wildfire, and the 
neighbors and many of the church members 
came to the little home to bless Mary and 
rejoice with the old folks for an answered 
prayer. 

The next morning when Mary went to 
school, she brought her little escort with her, 
introducing him to Professor Graham, and 
many in her room. That evening after school, 
Professor and Mrs. Graham called to congratu- 
late the old folks on having such a handsome 


The Heir of Limerick 53 

little grandson, for they had known the old 
folks for many years and remembered their son 
when he was like little Phil, and also when he 
became a young man, before dissipation had 
ruined him. 

As soon as the Grahams got the chance, they 
asked Mary if she expected^ to support them 
all now out of her small earnings, telling her 
they thought it would be impossible for her to 
do so, and if she tried she would only break 
down. 

Mary told them she trusted God for strength, 
and He had never failed her, and she knew He 
wouldn’t fail her now. As it was very near 
vacation, Mary taught little Phil at home, for 
it was not worth while to send him to school 
for such a short time, and the old folks wanted 
to see as much of him as possible, and talk to 
him about his unfortunate father. 

Mary’s pupils increased so that she had all 
that she was able to take care of, and in that 
way had plenty of means to provide for her 
little family. The last days of school were 
near at hand, and all the girls’ mothers were 


54 


The Vatican, Or 


making great preparation for their daughters 
graduations, one mother trying to outdo the 
other in having the prettiest dress and ribbons 
for her daughter. There was one dear pretty 
girl without a mother’s loving care or busy 
hands to prepare for her, and that was Mary 
Russell. 

Mrs. Graham was very anxious to give Mary 
her graduating dress, but in a choking voice 
Mary thanked her, saying she knew God would 
bless her for her good will and kind thought, 
but she preferred to wear the little white dress 
that she earned so hard herself, though it was 
poor and plain. 

The next morning as Mary was going to the 
dry goods store to buy a piece of lace for the 
neck of her dress, and thinking of her dear 
dead parents, and wondering where her dear 
brother Harold was, when near the Astor 
House she stepped upon something, and pick- 
ing it up, she found it to be an old-fashioned 
leather pocket-book' of the best material. 
Putting it quickly into her pocket, and hasten- 
ing on to do her shopping, as soon as she 


The Heir of Limerick 


55 


returned home she went directly to her little 
room. On opening it she found a fifty-pound 
note on the Bank of England, and two English 
sovereigns, also a small gold locket, with the 
chain ring broken off; on one side was a lock 
of auburn hair, and on the other side was the 
picture of a beautiful young girl, about sixteen 
or seventeen years old, and a receipt for a 
board bill that was paid the day before at the 
Continental Hotel in Philadelphia. 

The picture in the locket and the name on 
the receipted bill startled Mary beyond utter- 
ance, it being Jerome Maxwell. Mary hurried 
back to the Astor House, thinking as she 
found the purse so very near it, that the owner 
might be stopping there. As she looked over 
the register, there was the name, Jerome Max- 
well, of London, England. 

Asking the clerk if he was in the house at 
the present time, she was told he had left only 
two hours previous for the steamer. Mary ran 
quickly to the Hoboken dock, knowing some- 
times the steamers were late in getting out to 
sea. Just as the poor girl approached, she saw 


56 The Vatican, Or 

the Great Northern passing the government 
pier. 

All that day the picture in the locket and 
the name on the receipt haunted her, the pic- 
ture resembling her own mother and the name 
Maxwell, she wondered who it could be. 
Knowing her mother never had any brothers or 
sisters and that her grandfather Maxwell was 
dead, and the only relative that she had in the 
old country, besides her father’s old uncle, that 
she knew of, and was not sure that he was 
alive, was her mother’s uncle, Thomas Max- 
well of Liverpool, and his son, but she didn’t 
know what his name was. 

The poor girl had to hurry back to get ready 
for the closing exercises of the afternoon, as 
they were to be held from the stage of the Old 
Wallace Theatre, it being the largest class that 
ever graduated from the high school. Some 
of the most prominent people of the city were 
invited, and many of the leading singers of 
the grand Italian Opera that was in the city at 
the time. 

The long-looked-for day had come at last. 


The Heir of Limerick 


57 


and many is the boy and girl would say good- 
bye to school-days and school-mates forever, 
some of them not having to think of what the 
future would have in store for them. 

Not so with Mary; always trying to think 
and do for the happiness of others more than 
herself, she was glad that day had come. 

All the scholars tried to look their best, espe 
cially the girls, and it was a great secret who 
was to give the farewell oration on that special 
occasion, as there were so many high officials 
invited. The scholars all inquired among 
themselves, but no one considered it worth 
while to ask Mary if she knew. Of course 
they never considered her in anything, because 
she was poor and friendless. The only thing 
they noticed about her was her plain white 
dress, and with a shrug of their shoulders and 
a sneer, they asked her if that was the best 
dress she had. She told them it was, and she 
was thankful to God for that. They turned 
away from her, and looked at each other with 
a smile. 

As the girls came forward to perform theii 


58 


The Vatican, Or 


parts, with the smile of loving parents and 
friends to encourage them, it was not so with 
Mary, poor girl. Though she was the last to 
take part, she stepped to the front with the 
dignity and grace of a young queen, giving the 
farewell oration and winning the handsome 
Beckfort medal, to the great surprise of all in 
the room. 

Many of the young ladies played and sang. 
None of them had the slightest idea that Mary 
had any such accomplishments. When Pro- 
fessor Graham led her to the piano, she sang 
in a clear soprano voice, “Sweet Spirit, Hear 
My Prayer.” 

Before any one had time to say a word, the 
great Italian baritone that belonged to the 
Opera Company, said in his broken English: 
“Oh, sweet, pretty girl, sing again.” At last 
Professor Graham stepped to her side, hardly 
able to control his feelings, and said: “Do, 
Mary, my child, sing again.” She then sang 
‘ The Last Rose of Summer. * ’ There was hardly 
a dry eye in the room when she finished. 

Mrs. Graham was the first to embrace and 


The Heir of Limerick 


59 


kiss her with all the affection of a fond mother, 
and Spencer was one of the proudest and hap- 
piest in the room, presenting her with a beau- 
tiful bouquet of roses and a little book, entitled, 
“The Lady of the Lake.” 

When the girls saw the great attention and 
honor Mary received from every one of note, 
and especially the young and handsome lawyer 
Graham, they were very much ashamed of 
themselves for the way they had always treated 
her, and how kind and sweet she had been to 
them in return, for she pitied their worldliness 
and vanity. 

Miss Bentley, one of the girls in her class, 
who had wounded her feelings many a time by 
trying to make her feel her humble position, 
was giving a party that evening for the class, 
and they were all invited except Mary, having 
received invitations some time previous. 

After the exercises were over, and they saw 
that Mary was queen of the occasion, they 
were all very anxious to have the honor of her 
company to the party. Miss Bentley inviting 
her to join them that evening. 


6o 


The Vatican, Or 


Mary thanked her most kindly, which 
brought a blush to Miss Bentley’s face, know- 
ing that Mary could see through her and her 
shallow-minded friends, and knew what was 
proper on such an occasion 

She told her that she was going to be the 
guest of the Grahams that evening and had 
been invited some time previous. The girls 
were quite surprised, as the Graham's party 
would be the largest and most fashionable one 
of the evening. 

Before the company and class dispersed. 
Professor Graham stepped to the front of the 
platform, to say that Miss Russell had a few 
words she would like to say to her schoolmates 
and class before they took their departure. 
Though she had never been treated kindly by 
them, with a trembling voice and tears in her 
beautiful brown eyes, she bade them an affec- 
tionate farewell, saying that she might never 
see them again, and if sorrow ever crossed 
their paths, as it had hers, to trust in God and 
press on, and He would help them, and reward 
them, for recognizing Him in all things, an4 


The Heir of Limerick 6i 

helping themselves; and if they took care of 
their character, God would protect their repu- 
tation. 

That night after Mary returned from the 
Graham party, before retiring, she wrote to 
Jerome Maxwell, at London, telling him how 
she had found a purse, supposedly his, and 
that she was the grandchild of Squire Jerome 
Maxwell of London, deceased. She also told 
him that she was an orphan earning her living 
and alone among strangers. She also wished 
to know if he was any kin to her, or could send 
her any information in regard to any other 
Maxwells, and as soon as she heard from him 
it would give her pleasure, she said, to return 
his money and other papers. Many a tear the 
poor girl shed while writing that letter, for the 
picture of the pretty auburn-haired girl, that 
looked so much like her own motherj was open 
on the table before her. It brought back the 
remembrance of the past, and wondering if she 
would ever see old England again or any one 
belonging to her. She never made a confidant 
of any one, after her mother’s death, not even 


62 


The Vatican, Or 


the Murphys or the Grahams, in regard to who 
she was or what she had ever had, fearing 
people might think she was bragging, if she 
told them, and such a thing as that was very 
much beneath her. Though many a time she 
was insulted and abused on account of her 
helplessness and poverty, she trusted to God 
and bore it all patiently and was kind to every- 
body and everything, even poor horses and 
dogs. If she had nothing to give them to eat, 
she gave them kind words and a gentle pat on 
the head, saying that the same God that 
created her created them. 

After Mary’s school days were over, the poor 
'girl was quite broken down from the trials of 
nearly six years, without parents and robbed of 
all she loved dearly. No one had any idea 
what she suffered but God alone, for she kept 
all her sorrows to herself, looking forward to 
her eighteenth birthday, when, as a young 
woman, with many good friends that God had 
provided for her, she would expose a rascal, 
and claim her rights without fear of any one, 
for she knew that God was with her through 


The Heir of Limerick 


63 


all those years, and no one could harm her. 
She would then let Mavor know where the 
valuable papers were that he was so anxious 
about when her darling mother was dying. 

After she put the finishing touch to the frill 
of Aunt Sally’s Sunday cap, she started for the 
post-office, and as she was crossing Fifth 
Avenue, she was knocked down by a very 
spirited horse, with gold-mounted harness, and 
fawn-colored reins, attached to a beautiful 
dog-cart, the occupants being J. W. Howard 
and son, wealthy Wall Street brokers, who 
were just returning from Delmonico’s, where 
they had lunched. The horse was driven by 
Chester, the son. 

Immediately the crowd rushed to the horse’s 
head, and before it had a chance to drag the 
cart over her body they stopped it, telling the 
occupants they ought to be ashamed of them- 
selves to drive like that in a crowded thorough- 
fare. A young gentleman ran quickly and 
rescued Mary from her perilous position, while 
the crowd gathered around the poor uncon- 
scious girl covered with mud, and bleeding 


64 


The Vatican, Or 


from the nose, and did all they could to revive 
her. While Chester and his father ordered a 
dray to take her to the hospital, saying they 
supposed she was some poor unfortunate under 
the influence of liquor, or else she would have 
seen the horse in time. 

At that Mary opened her eyes, and asked 
God for patience and strength to bear such a 
dreadful insult. Looking the young man 
straight in the face, she told him she might be 
unfortunate, but not in the way that he meant, 
and she certainly was not drunk, and thanked 
them for their kindness in ordering the dray. 
At that, the crowd cheered Mary’s words. 

Jerry Sullivan, a poor cabman, who stood 
looking on and listening to the heartless words 
of the rich man, said: “By gob, you’ll not go 
to the hospital, me poor girl, on a dray, while 
Jerry Sullivan has a cab,’* adding it wasn’t 
much that he could do for anybody as he was 
very poor himself, but the little he could do 
he was glad to do it, saying, “May God help 
the poor.” 

Mary looked at him and said God would 


The Heir of Limerick 


6S 

help the poor if they trutsed Him, for Christ 
was poor, when on this earth, and poverty was 
no disgrace. 

At those words, men in the crowd took off 
their hats and bowed their heads in silence, 
while the fashionable and wealthy Wall Street 
broker and his son drove to their beautiful 
Madison Avenue mansion, very much ashamed 
of themselves and wondering who that poor 
young girl could be, that spoke so beautifully 
about God’s love, under such trying circum- 
stances, feeling they had made a great mistake 
in what they said, in ordering the dray and 
judging her character. 

Though Mary was very feeble, she thanked 
the crowd and asked her Heavenly Father to 
bless them for the help they gave her. 

As soon as Jerry Sullivan arrived at the hos- 
pital, he tied his horse to the hitching-post, 
and on opening the door, to help Mary out, he 
saw she was in a dead faint, and her clothes 
covered with blood. He ran quickly into the 
hospital for help. As soon as she was carried 
in and revived, she recognized a very familiar, 


66 


The Vatican, Or 


kind face bending over her. It was Doctor 
Gordon, one of the visiting physicians of the 
staff and a brother of Mrs. Graham. He and 
his wife were great friends of hers, and not hav- 
ing any children themselves, were among the 
many that would have been glad to give her a 
home, and a child’s place in their heart, when 
she was with the Murphys, knowing how much 
good she had done to make others happy and 
save souls, for one so young. The doctor 
said, “Mary, this is a very sad thing to hap- 
pen to you.” Her answer was, “God knows 
best, and though He slay me, still will I love 
and trust Him.” 

The doctor had her taken to the prettiest 
private room in the house, furnished with a 
little white bedstead and blue trimmings, with 
dainty white valance, and everything cor- 
responding, to make the sick-room look cheer- 
ful. It took her back to her childhood home 
across the sea. 

Mary told the doctor she had no money to 
pay for such luxury, as she thought her arm 
was only sprained, and if he would kindly 


The Heir of Limerick 67 

bandage it for her she would go right home. 
The doctor ordered the nurse to hurry and take 
her clothes off and he would be right back. 
Just as soon as he examined her arm, he found 
it was broken, and asked her all about it and 
how it happened. As soon as he heard the 
poor girl’s story, his heart ached for her. 
Looking at her pretty smiling face, with the 
greatest surprise, he asked her if she wasn’t 
hurt elsewhere. She told him her side hurt a 
little, but she didn’t mind that. 

As soon as the doctor examined her side, he 
found a deep gash in it, and two fractured 
ribs, where the horse’s hoof must have struck 
her. He told her now that she must be con- 
tent to stay in the hospital for a while, as 
she was hurt a great deal worse than she had 
any idea, and everything possible would be 
done for her comfort and pleasure. 

When the poor girl heard this, she cried bit- 
terly, telling the doctor she could not afford to 
stay in the hospital, as she had her night- 
school to teach, and her dear little family to 
look after, that she coulJ carry her arm in a 


68 


The Vatican, Or 


sling at home, and aches and pains were some- 
thing she had gotten used to. 

Without Mary’s knowledge, he sent right off 
for the Grahams, telling them to come to the 
hospital at once, that Mary was there, and she 
was very badly hurt. He told her that it 
would be necessary for him to give her chloro- 
form in order to set her arm. She said, “All 
right, doctor; I put my trust in God, and I 
know He will guide you to do what is best for 
me.’’ 

While she was under the influence of the 
drug, she sang these words: 

“He is my shield and strength, I love His Holy 
Name.’' 

The doctor and the nurse looked at each 
other, speechless, and wondered at the faith 
and love she had for God in all her suffering, 
whether sleeping or waking. 

Professor and Mrs. Graham arrived at the 
hospital before the doctor had finished caring 
for her wounds, and were waiting in the parlor 
with sad and anxious hearts to hear all about 
it. As soon as the doctor was through, he told 


The Heir of Limerick 


69 

the nurse to give Mary a glass of lemonade, 
and he went downstairs to see the Grahams. 
After he had talked with them awhile and told 
them all about it, he took them upstairs to see 
her. Mary smiled, telling them she thought 
she would have to take a vacation. They told 
her that she must be content to stay in the 
hospital, and they hoped she would be as good 
a patient now as she was a scholar. Though 
they did not want her to have broken bones, 
they wanted her to have a good rest, knowing 
she would have the best of care, and they 
would see the old folks and tell them not to 
worry about her, but Mary made them promise 
to tell them right off as they would be looking 
for her, and to have them all come to the hos- 
pital in the morning to see her, for she would 
be very unhappy if she didn’t see them as soon 
as possible, knowing they, too would be un- 
happy. 

Before Mrs. Graham left, in a whisper, she 
told Mary she could expect Spencer up right 
off, for he was downstairs at the present time, 
and she must get over all her little foolishness. 


70 


The Vatican, Or 


Our readers will remember there was a lov- 
er’s quarrel on account of little Phil; on 
Mary’s part it had really never been made up, 
so it took a broken arm to mend a broken 
heart. In a short time lawyer Graham was 
announced. His uncle, Doctor Gordon, with 
a smile in the corner of his mouth, told the 
house physician this was his nephew, young 
lawyer Graham, and Miss Russell was his first 
and special client, after he got home from col- 
lege, and he supposed it would be necessary 
for him to see her every day. 

The next morning, as soon as the old folks 
and little Phil saw Mary, they broke down and 
commenced to cry. She told them not to 
worry, for accidents would happen to the best 
of people, and why should it not happen to 
her? Thajt there was enough money to care for 
them in the house for a while, and now that 
she wouldn’t need that new dressThat she had 
been saving up for so long, the money could 
be used for the rent, as son as it was due, and 
she knew before that was gone God would pro- 
vide more. 


The Heir of Limerick 71 

Poor old Uncle Hiram with his back turned 
to her was wiping the tears on his coat sleeve, 
thinking she did not see him, while little Phil 
was loving and kissing her on the forehead, 
and telling her how sorry everybody was for 
her, and that the house was full of people last 
night, and he guessed something was going to 
be done with the bad man whose horse ran 
over her, and that he was going to be a good 
boy, and get a job, selling papers like other 
boys to help grandpa along, and he was going 
to get a job too. At that Aunt Sally said, 
“Hush, hush, and come away from Mary. 
You are just like your grandpa, telling every- 
thing you know.” 

Mary called Uncle Hiram over to the bed, 
taking hold of his poor old withered hand, and 
holding it to her cheek. She said, “Uncle 
Hiram, do you love me?” 

He could not answer those words, with grief; 
and tears flowing down his old withered cheek, 
he nodded his old gray head, and Aunt Sally 
put her arms around the dear girl, and said, 
“Mary, my darling, our love, and earthly pro- 


72 


The Vatican, Or 


tector, you know we love you with all the 
power that God could give to a human heart.” 
At that little Phil spoke up and said he loved 
her, too, and Bruno and the black cat loved 
her, and they wanted to come along with them. 
Mary told them they must get all that nonsense 
out of their heads, about work, for if they did 
not she would not stay in the hospital another 
day, telling them to go home, and thank God 
for the little they had and that she knew it was 
very dark at present for them all, but told 
them to cheer up, for every sorrow hath its 
balm, and no cross endured forever, for their 
Heavenly Father did all things for the best, 
and she was not going to let her little star of 
hope grow dim or disappear now on account 
of a broken arm, and a few fractured bones. 

She told little Phil the work she wanted him 
to do was to be a good boy, and mind grandpa 
and grandma in everything they told him, and 
study his lessons and look neat and tidy. She 
told the old folks if they wanted to make her 
happy, they must be happy and cheerful too, 
and not do unnecessary and foolish things. 


The Heir of Limerick 73 

and with the help of God, she would soon be 
home with them again. 

That evening, about nine o’clock, there was 
a very fashionably dressed young man called 
at the hospital, and asked if there was a girl 
there that was brought in about one or two 
o’clock the day before, who had met with an 
accident on account of her own carelessness, 
not looking where she was going, but ran under 
the horses’ feet. The fright was the cause of 
making his father sick. The doctor told him 
that Miss Russell was there, he supposed that 
she was who he meant, and that she was very 
badly hurt, and the spectators said she was 
dreadfully insulted too, and if the horse had 
not been going as if he was running away, it 
might not have happened, telling him she was 
a beautiful girl and had many loving friends 
to care for her, who felt the accident and insult 
very keenly. 

The young man wanted to know who her 
friends were and where they lived. The doctor 
told him if he called in the morning when they 
were there, he could ask them, and with a look 


74 


The Vatican, Or 


of contempt and a sarcastic smile, Doctor 
Benson, the house physician, said good-night, 
leaving the swell standing there. 

It did not take him long to get out, and go 
home to tell the news. 

Though Mary slept well that night, consid- 
ering, that was more than the head of the 
Howard household did. The next morning, 
both father and son called at the hospital, with 
a very anxious look, for what the doctor said 
stung them to the very heart. They asked 
how Miss Russell was, and if there was any- 
thing they could do for her comfort. The 
elder Mr. Howard said it was his duty to do it, 
and he hoped they would have an opportunity 
lo see her as soon as possible and apologize 
for their words and conduct, saying on account 
of the dreadful accident, they didn’t know 
what they were saying. 

As they were talking to the doctor. Professor 
Graham and his wife came in. As Mr. Howard 
and the professor were old college friends, 
though they hadn’t met for years, the doctor 
knew there was no need of an introduction. The 


The Heir of Limerick 75 

doctor excused himself and withdrew from the 
room to look after his patient, leaving the 
Grahams and the Howards alone. 

In a short time the doctor sent down word 
that Miss Russell was ready to receive them, 
and just as soon as she was able to be up and 
dressed, she would be pleased to see Mr. 
Howard, and to tell him he must not worry over 
what happened, as it might have been very 
much worse. When the Howards heard what 
a beautiful girl she was, they were humiliated 
beyond description, and the first visit they 
made was to Mary’s home to tell the old folks 
how sorry they were and to see what they 
could do for them. 

Just as soon as Uncle Hiram saw the man 
that was the cause of almost crushing their 
darling girl’s life out, he immediately recog- 
nized in him, the man that was the cause of 
crushing his heart many years ago, when he 
closed the mortgage on his little farm down in 
Delaware, where their little girl was buried. 

The two men looked at each other for a 
second or two, Mr. Howard extending his hand 


76 


The Vatican, Or 


to Uncle Hiram, and saying, ‘This is not such 
a large world after all.” 

He then commenced to talk about Mary, 
telling Uncle Hiram that he had met the 
Grahams at the hospital, and they told him 
what a lovely girl she was, and how she was 
caring for them, and now that she was disabled 
on account of his carelessness, he wanted to do 
what he could for them, in her place, handing 
Uncle Hiram twenty dollars, and saying that 
he would be around in a few days to see them 
again. 


Tpie Heir of Limerick 


77 


CHAPTER III 

SPENCER IS FORGIVEN 

Uncle Hiram handed the money back to 
him, telling him they did not need it, and 
their lovely Mary would not like to have them 
take it from him or anybody else, but he would 
be welcome to come and see her when she 
came home, that is, if he did not see her at 
the hospital before that time. 

Mary’s wounds healed rapidly, for she had 
the best of care. The only ones allowed to 
see her were her little family and the Grahams. 
The next afternoon when Spencer came, Mary 
asked him if he would call at the post-office in 
77 


The Vatican, Or 


78 

passing to or from his office, as she was 
expecting a letter from the old country. He 
told her it would make him very happy to do 
anything on earth for her, and he had not slept 
all night, thinking of her, and was very sorry 
for the way he acted the night she found little 
Phil, asking her if she had fully forgiven him, 
for he knew she was right, and though they did 
not see each other every evening to speak, he 
saw her just the same, and loved her more than 
ever, for she was his angel and must be his 
wife, that she was his first love and whole life, 
and his future happiness was in her hands, and 
that she must give him some hope before he 
left the room, and promise to be his wife, tell- 
ing her she always said if she ever married the 
man would have to be a Christian. He told 
her he had promised God upon his knees that 
if she would be his wife, he would serve Him 
as long as he lived. 

Mary smiled and blushed beneath his gaze, 
and there was a long silence, Spencer kneel- 
ing beside the bed, holding her poor feeble 
hand to his face, and her eyes were closed at 


The Heir of Limerick 


79 

that moment She was in silent prayer with 
her God. 

On opening her eyes, she said, ‘ Now that 
you have accepted Christ as your Saviour, if it 
be His will, I will accept you as my affianced 
husband.” 

Spencer kissed Mary’s hand again and again, 
and said, “Thanks be unto God for His un- 
speakable gift and blessing in answering this 
poor sinner’s prayer.” 

After thanking God he hastened from the 
room to bear the glad tidings to his parents. 
As he was going out of the hospital. Doctor 
Benson called him back, telling him his father 
and mother were in the parlor, and would like 
to see him. They met Spencer with out- 
stretched arms, for they had never seen his 
face so radiant before. His mother kissed him 
and said, “I know, my boy, God has answered 
your prayer,” and his father said, “God bless 
you both.” His mother told him that Mary 
was unlike any other girl she had ever seen, so 
unconscious of her own happiness and so 
watchful and anxious for others. 


8o 


The Vatican, Or 


Spencer said, “That is true, no wonder I 
love her, and that is one of the things that 
has made her so dear to me.*' 

Mrs. Graham went up to congratulate Mary. 
Knocking gently on the door, and receiving no 
response, she opened it, stepping silently to 
the side of the bed, and thinking she was 
sleeping, she bent down over the pure girl’s 
face, and she looked like a beautiful rosebud 
just opening its young life to the brilliant rays 
of the sun. There were tears on her cheeks, 
as the morning dew on the rose, and her lips 
moved silently. 

Mrs. Graham knew then that she was in 
prayer. Kissing her cheek, she said, “Now 
that you are in Spencer’s heart, and are going 
to be our darling daughter very soon, why do 
you weep?” 

But Mary said, “Not until I find Harold or 
hear from him.” Mrs. Graham wondered whom 
Mary meant by Harold, for she had never 
heard her mention the name before, and con- 
sidering it unwise for her to talk about it at the 
present time, slipped gently from the room. 


The Heir of Limerick 8i 

/Vt that, dear old Doctor Gordon came to make 
his round, and visiting Mary’s room first to 
congratulate her on being his patient and some 
time to be his niece. He saw the tears in 
those beautiful eyes. He asked her what it all 
meant. Mary told him not to mind her tears, 
as they were tears of joy and gladness, it being 
the first time since she lost her home and par- 
ents that she felt the right to claim anybody’s 
love and protection. 

He told her to cheer up, and if she kept 
improving, she would be up in a very short 
time, and long before her birthday or Uncle 
Hiram’s, as he heard how very near together 
they were. Seeing she was tired and, he 
thought, anxious to be alone with her own 
thoughts, he patted her on the head and left 
the room, giving orders to Doctor Benson that 
she must be kept very quiet and get more 
sleep, as he noticed she was very nervous. 

After that the old folks and little Phil came 
with Bruno, he looking very knowing, as much 
as to say, “I must see Mary, too,” but when 
they heard how she felt, they were satisfied tQ 


82 


The Vatican, Or 


go home without seeing her that day. The 
doctor told them that as they lived such a very 
short distance from the hospital, he would 
send them word a couple of times a day, telling 
them not to worry about her and the fewer she 
saw the better, until she got a little stronger. 

Just before supper, Spencer called again, tell- 
ing the doctor it was very necessary for him to 
see her a minute or two, as he had something 
very important to tell her, and also a letter 
which she expected from the old country, 
when she met with the dreadful accident. The 
doctor told him he must not tell her anything 
about letters, as she was very nervous now over 
something, and must be kept quiet, and that 
the nurse was with her at the present time. 

In response to the knock at the door, he was 
met by the nurse. She stepped out into the 
hall and told him Miss Russell had been cry- 
ing, and at the present had a very bad head- 
ache. When his uncle saw him, he smilingly 
asked him what he wanted there again that day. 
Spencer told him he must speak to Mary a 
minute. At that, they were left alone. 


The Heir of Limerick 83 

When Spencer saw her poor little head tied 
up as well as her arm, it made his heart ache, 
and on the hand she gave him that morning he 
slipped a very valuable diamond ring, and 
whispered, “Praise God, from Whom all bless- 
ings flow,” and Mary responded, “Amen.” 
Before he left the room she told him whenever 
he got her English letter he must be sure and 
open it immediately, for there might be some- 
thing of very great importance in it, that would 
have to be attended to right off, and he could 
read it also to his parents if he wished, as they 
had always been so good and kind to her, and 
now they must know all her little secrets, for 
soon the world would know them, and she 
thanked God that there was nothing in her life 
that she was ashamed of. 

That night Mary slept very well, and the 
next morning was bright and happy. Not pay- 
ing much attention to what the doctor said the 
day before, her first visitor was little Phil, 
carrying the little black kitten, and Bruno 
beside him, wagging his tail. When the doc- 
tor saw the distinguished party and the first 


The Vatican, Or 


84 

callers of the day, he did not have heart to re- 
fuse them, but, shaking all over with laughter, 
ushered them up to the room himself. 

As soon as the nurse opened the door to the 
gentle response, the first one that greeted 
Mary was Bruno, leaping on her bed and lick- 
ing her face and hands. When Mary saw Phil 
and his dirty face, and the little toes com- 
mencing to peek out of the boots, and his 
hands bleeding and scratched from the kitten, 
it was too much for her, and she joined the 
doctor and the nurse in a very hearty laugh, 
which added greatly to her speedy recovery. 

While the nurse washed Phil’s face and 
hands, and combed his hair, Bruno curled 
down beside Mary on the pillow, and could not 
be coaxed away. With her well hand she held 
the black kitten to keep it from running away, 
and asked Phil why he came to the hospital so 
dirty, bringing the cat and dog with him, tell- 
ing him he must hurry and take them home, 
for she was very much ashamed that the doctor 
and nurse should see such a dirty boy. He 
told her the kitten cried so much, and Bruno 


The Heir of Limerick 85 

kept barking all the time, he guessed they 
wanted to see her too, and while grandpa was 
gone to the store, and grandma was doing 
up the work, he ran away, and they did not 
know it. 

Mary told him she was very glad to see them 
all, and she would soon be home, and hoped 
that he had learned to speak a piece for her 
birthday and grandpa’s, which would be in a 
very short time now. 

That evening when Spencer went home, he 
told his mother he had just come from the hos- 
pital, and was the happiest man on earth, that 
he had given Mary her ring, and gotten the 
letter she expected from England, but the doc- 
tor would not allow him to tell her anything 
about it at the present. On opening it, he 
found in it a check for five hundred pounds, 
and some newspaper clippings, showing that 
she and her brother had been advertised for by 
the order of the probate court, as they had 
been left a large estate in the North of Eng- 
land, by the death of their father’s uncle, the 
Honorable Thomas Toben of Yorkshire, and 


86 


The Vatican, Or 


Jerome Maxwell, their mother’s cousin, not 
hearing anything from them, got very uneasy 
and came to America to find them. 

The picture in the locket was that of Mary’s 
mother, when she was about sixteen years old, 
she being her cousin Jerome’s first and only 
love, but on account of the near relationship, 
and both families being sincere Christians, 
they were separated, Jerome being sent to 
Trinity College, and the beautiful Victoria 
Maxwell, Mary’s mother, was sent to the con- 
vent of Notre Dame, Paris, where she remained 
for several years until the death of her mother. 
After that, she married her father’s choice, 
and never saw her cousin Jerome again. After 
his college days, so that he would never have 
to meet her as the wife of another, Jerome 
Maxwell went to Australia, where he remained 
until she and her family came to America. 

The Grahams were surprised to read this 
letter, and wondered what it all meant, as they 
had never heard Mary speak of her brother or 
friends. 

The next morning Spencer and his mother 


The Heir of Limerick 87 

called at the hospital and found Mary sitting 
up in the rocking-chair looking very bright 
and happy. 

As soon as they read the contents of the 
letter to her, and she heard how her brother 
and she had been advertised for, and there 
was no response from him, she cried, saying, 
"O, how can I find my darling brother, so that 
we together can face this man and claim our 
own.” 

Mrs. Graham put her arms around Mary just 
as she did on her graduating day, and said: 
“Now, my darling, you have always been 
brave, and trusted God in everything, and 
suffered so much for the comfort of others, 
and God saw and knew it all, don’t break 
down now.” 

The poor girl for the first time unbosomed 
her heart, and told them all about Mavor and 
how he had robbed her, giving Spencer all 
the papers that Aunt Sally had brought over 
to her the day before, pertaining to her home 
and valuables, also to her father’s business, 
which was in Mavor’s possession, so that he 


88 


The Vatican, Or 


and his father could look them over by the 
time she got better, and they could all start 
for Philadelphia. 

Mary thanked God, saying that her dark 
cloud commenced to show a little of its silver 
lining. 

Before Spencer and his mother left the hos- 
pital Mary signed the check asking Spencer 
to draw the money and tell the old folks all 
about the letter and give Aunt Sally one 
hundred dollars to get anything she needed 
for herself and the house. She also told 
Spencer to give Uncle Hiram the price of a 
good suit of clothes and to see that he got 
them, for the last time they were all at the 
hospital, she said, she noticed that their 
clothes were very shabby. Uncle Hiram’s 
boots were all run down at the heels and 
broken on the side, and Aunt Sally’s best dress 
was almost worn out. Mary also asked Spen- 
cer to remember Jerry Sullivan with a few hun- 
dred dollars and tell him that if he ever 
needed a friend to come to her and as long as 
she had a dollar he should never want, and 


The Heir of Limerick 


89 

that he would have the pleasure of taking her 
away from the hospital very soon. 

In less than a week Mary insisted on going 
home, saying that she could carry her arm in 
a sling at home for a few days as well as there. 
She said she could help Aunt Sally in a great 
many ways, as it was so near their birthdays 
and she had many things to look after. 
Knowing how anxious they were concerning 
her and fearing that little Phil was being the 
master of the house in place of being mas- 
tered, judging from his appearance the last 
time he came to see her with Bruno and the 
kitten, she was doubly anxious to return home. 

A few days before Mary left the hospital 
Mr. Howard, with his son and daughter, Ches- 
ter and Addie, called to see her. She looked 
very sweet and pretty in the little blue wrapper 
that Mrs. Graham had the pleasure of making 
for her to wear after she got up. Her beauti- 
ful eyes sparkled like diamonds and her auburn 
hair hung in long ringlets down her back. 
The doctor escorted her to the parlor, intro- 
ducing her to them. 


90 


The Vatican, Or 


Mary greeted them very kindly, and Mr. 
Howard told her how he regretted the dreadful 
accident and hoped that she would forgive him 
for his rudeness to her as it was all done on the 
impulse of the moment. Mary told him that 
she felt no ill will toward them. 

Chester Howard asked Mary if he could 
have the pleasure of seeing her home from 
the hospital. Mary thanked him and said 
that the pleasure belonged to her friends and 
the good hearted soul that brought her there, 
but she would be glad to have them call at any 
time they cared to when she got home. 

Shortly after they left. Uncle Hiram came 
with her clothes that she was to wear home, 
telling her that Aunt Sally and little Phil had 
the house turned upside down, and that they 
were all up to their eyes in work to make every- 
thing look fine before she came home. Aunt 
Sally and old Granny Hobbs had been making 
custard pie and sponge cake. Uncle Hiram 
told her that he had whitewashed the kitchen 
and fence and there were lots of other things 
being done, but Aunt Sally would be awfully 


The Heir of Limerick 


91 


mad he said if she knew he told her anything 
about it, because it was to be a great surprise, 
and Aunt Sally expected him to keep the secret. 

Poor Mary smiled, knowing how Uncle 
Hiram could keep a secret, and how often 
dear little Aunt sally tried in her poor way to 
give her a little surprise, but Uncle Hiram 
would find it out and tell it. Mary always 
acted out the surprise just the same, so as not 
to get Uncle Hiram into trouble and to make 
Aunt Sally happy, so she never knew the 
difference. 

A few days after Mary got home, Addie 
Howard called to take her out riding, also to 
invite her to dinner with them, which Mary 
was pleased to accept, not that she cared for 
their wealth, or what they had in their beauti- 
ful home, but so that she could become better 
acquainted with their souls, and if they were 
in darkness, she could show them the light. 

When Chester came into the house to escort 
Mary to the carriage. Uncle Hiram, scratching 
his head, and with a knowing wink in his eye, 
told him now that his father had run over her. 


92 


The Vatican, Or 


he hoped that he would not try to run away 
with her, for it wouldn’t do him any good, 
from the appearance of things and the new 
diamond ring on her finger. Aunt Sally gave 
him a poke in the side, telling him to hush, 
and not be telling all about Mary’s affairs and 
that he never could keep a secret. The poor 
girl looked down as though trying to hide the 
blushes on her cheeks. Chester said it pleased 
him very much to show Miss Russell attentions, 
but from what he heard, he feared ft was too 
late to win her; yet he said he could not help 
but envy the happy man who^ had won her 
hand and heart. 

As soon as they arrived at the Howard 
home, they were met by Mr. Howard, who was 
a widower, and his maiden sister, who acted 
as his house-keeper. They all endeavored to 
give Mary, a very hearty welcome. 

At the table they noticed what perfect man- 
ners she had, and what a fine conversationalist 
she was for one so young. Many a person 
much older might well be proud of Mary’s 
attainments, 


The Heir of Limerick 


93 

Mr. Howard said he heard that she and 
Uncle Hiram were going to have a birthday 
very soon, and they were only a few days 
apart, she being eighteen and Uncle Hiram 
seventy. He said he had been thinking a 
great deal about it, after Professor Graham 
talked with him, and he wanted to do all in his 
power to make it the happiest birthday she 
had ever had, and he knew how anxious she 
was about the comfort of the old folks and 
that her greatest happiness seemed to be in 
making them happy. He did not consider, he 
said, that there was anything in his power that 
he would not do for her, as she came near 
losing her life through his carelessness and 
that of his son, and he was well aware that if 
she so disposed, she could make it cost them a 
great deal. He had learned a lesson, he said, 
and as long as he lived he would not judge 
one’s character by circumstances. 

He told Mary how he once held a mortgage 
on the old folks’ farm down in Delaware, 
though he considered he gave them every 
chance to redeem it, but it did not seem pos- 


94 


The Vatican, Or 


sible for them ever to do so, and he still had it, 
and on one end of it he built a small club-house 
for his family and friends to visit in the sum- 
mer, also a kennel for the dogs and a great 
barn for his horses. Their log house had 
never been torn down, but was used for a 
sleeping apartment for his hired men. 

He asked Mary how she would like to cele- 
brate Uncle Hiram’s birthday down on their 
old farm, and he would have the little log house 
fixed up for them to sleep in for the few days 
they would be there. 

Mary told him it would make her very happy 
and she was sure it would make them happy 
too. She told Mr. Howard there was nothing 
he could do for her personally, but now he had 
an opportunity of righting any wrong that he 
had done to the old folks. In the sight of the 
world he might consider it blotted out, and try 
to make himself ^ believe he had done right, 
but there was an invisible finger pointing at 
his conscience, telling him there was only one 
way to right a wrong, and that was being 
honest and just to everybody, and now he had 


The Heir of Limerick 


95 


the opportunity of doing that with them. She 
told him God’s ways were not our ways, and 
He took strange means of bringing things 
around, and the wealth in dollars did not 
always give wealth in soul. 

He looked at Mary with a blanched face, 
and taking her by the hand, he said, “My 
good girl, it’s well I understand the meaning 
of your words, and I thank God for being so 
merciful to me, and I shall do everything I 
can for the comfort of those that I have 
wronged.” 

That night when Mary got home, she told 
Aunt Sally not to make the candies for Uncle 
Hiram’s birthday cake, when she was making 
them for hers, or to make any preparations 
for it, as she had decided to take them all out 
of town on that occasion. She told her not to 
ask her any further questions about it, and re- 
quested her not to say. anything to Uncle 
Hiram or any of the neighbors. 

Chester saw Mary home that evening; when 
they arrived at Uncle Hiram’s, she did not ask 
him in, but he said that he would like to have 


96 


The Vatican, Or 


a little chat with Uncle Hiram as he had 
heard so much about him. Mary said she did 
not know much about Uncle Hiram, only that 
he was a veteran of 1812, and as there was so 
much talk of war at the present time he was 
always interested in hearing war news. 

Before Aunt Sally had time to help her off 
with her jacket, as her arm was yet weak, 
Chester was taking it off for her. Uncle 
Hiram stood by giving a nervous twitch to his 
whiskers, and told Chester he saw he was very 
apt at that kind of a job. Aunt Sally looked 
at Uncle Hiram with such a troubled look, 
telling him to keep still, when he told her he 
had not forgotten the days when he used to do 
that for her, and he hoped she had not forgot- 
ten them either, and that the young fellows in 
those days were just as slick as they are now. 

There was considerable talk among the old 
folks in the neighborhood in regard to Mary, 
since she got home from the hospital, and 
they guessed the coolness between herself and 
the young lawyer had been made up, from the 
appearance of things and the ring on her 



1 



THIS BOY WAS THE PICTURE OF HIS DEAD SON 





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The Heir of Limerick 


97 

finger, which Uncle Hiram said he gave her, 
and they thought it all meant a great deal. 
Granny Hobbs said she was always satisfied 
that he had a serious eye on the gal, and she 
knew it would be a match some day. Uncle 
Hiram told them he believed young Howard 
liked her pretty well too, from the great 
attention he paid her when taking off her 
jacket the other day, and that sister of his was 
running to see her all the time, but he knew 
that kind of folks was too thin for Mary, and 
he could see she didn’t care anything for him. 

None of this talk got to Mary’s ears, for 
they all loved her and knew how she disliked 
gossip. After awhile Aunt Sally was think- 
ing of Mary’s birthday, and how they could do 
the most to make her happy in their poor, 
humble way. While they were thinking of 
the pleasure they were going to give her for 
one day, she was thinking of the pleasure she 
would like to ’give them their whole lifetime. 

That evening Uncle Hiram and little Phil 
did a great deal of whispering, and were very 
nervous, before they went to bed, leaving Aunt 


The Vatican, Or 


98 

Sally alone to prepare for the next day, 
which pleased her very much. 

The next morning the September sun cast 
its bright rays through the morning glories 
that shaded Mary’s window and upon the 
kneeling form of the lovely girl, as she was 
thanking her Heavenly Father for guarding 
and guiding her those eighteen years, and 
especially the past six, since she was alone in 
the world. 

As soon as the old folks heard a stir in her 
room, they could not wait any longer, for they 
were so anxious to congratulate and love her, 
and present her with the book she loved most 
of all books on earth, and that was a new 
Bible, for they saw her old one was almost 
worn out. 

With tearful eyes the old folks put their 
arms around her neck, kissing" her and pray* 
ing God’s blessing upon her wherever she 
went, for they had a presentiment that she 
would not be with them long, while little Phil 
stood upon the chair to hug and kiss his 
Mary, for such she surely was to him. Bruno 


The Heir of Limerick 99 

jumped up and wagged his tail, barking as if 
he knew it was the happy day that she had 
stepped from childhood into young woman- 
hood. After a little Phil spoke his piece for 
her; he told her how much he loved her, and 
burying his head in the folds of her dress, he 
commenced to cry and told her he didn’t want 
lawyer Graham to ever take her away from 
them, for when he was a big man he would 
take care of her, and have horses and carriages 
for her himself. 

Aunt Sally said, “Hiram, I believe you’ve 
been telling that child all about Mary’s en- 
gagement, and I suppose you’ve been telling 
the neighbors, too,’’ asking him if he wasn’t 
ashamed of himself. He said he never did 
believe in surprises; it sometimes made people 
sick, and as it was true, he wanted to prepare 
them for it. Mary’s usual way at such times 
was to keep still and smile, for she knew when 
Uncle Hiram couldn’t tell a secret he was sick. 

Mary told Phil that he and his grandpa and 
grandma must never worry about that, as she 
would always love and protect them as long as 


LofC. 


lOO 


The Vatican, Or 


she lived, and no one could ever take that 
love from them, and all she wanted of him was 
to be a truthful, honest boy, and honor and 
obey God and his superiors. 

He told her when he was a man he guessed 
he would be a minister, for they were all good 
men. Mary told him that was what they 
ought to be, but there were many ministers 
who were not Christians, and it was not posi- 
tion that made the man, but good principles, 
and he could be a good man and serve God if 
he was only a street cleaner. 

Shortly after breakfast there was a knock at 
the door of the little cottage, which was cov- 
ered with morning glories, and they looked 
more beautiful that morning than ever, as if 
they were doing homage to the lone orphan 
girl. Phil responded to the knock, and he 
looked like a little Ben Franklin with his 
pretty velvet suit and his ruffled waist, with 
black stockings and Oxford ties, and silver 
buckles to match the ones on the knees of his 
little trousers 

Mary was very proud of him and the old 


The Heir of Limerick ioi 

folks when the Howard family was ushered 
into the parlor. Miss Howard was the first to 
congratulate Mary, presenting her with a beau- 
tiful gold locket and chain. On one side of 
the locket was Aunt Sally’s picture, when she 
was a young woman, just after they were marr 
ried, and on the other side was Uncle Hiram’s. 
Miss Howard had them copied from an old 
daguerreotype that she borrowed from Aunt 
Sally. Mr. Howard and Chester presented her 
with books and flowers. 

Although Mary appreciated the sweet remem- 
brances of the Howards and other friends, the 
present that touched her heart the most of all 
was what the old folks and little Phil gave her, 
for they had all worked hard to earn it while 
she was in the hospital. Uncle Hiram sawed 
wood for Squire Dobbins, while little Phil was 
a good boy, helping his grandma in the house 
while she knit socks for good old Deacon 
Shipley out in Harlem. 

After her birthday Mary was very happy, as 
were also all the friends who joined in wishing 
her many happy returns of the day. 


102 


The Vatican, Or 


Mr. Howard thought it would be best to go 
down to the farm the evening before Uncle 
Hiram's birthday, so that when he awoke in 
the morning, Mary could congratulate him on 
two occasions — being back at the old home 
they loved so well and the celebration of his 
birthday. 

Mr. Howard had the little log house all 
cleaned up and refurnished with some of the 
old furniture that Aunt Sally had sold to 
neighbors years ago, when they left the farm. 
He did everything he could to make the home 
look as much like old times as possible. 


The Heir of Limerick 


103 


CHAPTER IV 
UNCLE HIRAM’S BIRTHDAY 

The next morning Mary told Aunt Sally to 
pack up some of their clothes in Uncle Hi- 
ram’s old hair leather trunk, as they were going 
away on the one-o’clock train, and not to ask 
her any questions until they got to the depot. 
Uncle Hiram got so excited because he was not 
let into the secret that he bothered poor Aunt 
Sally almost to death, and when it came time 
to get ready, he forgot to change both his 
Sunday boots, having a shoe on one foot and a 
boot on the other, putting his old vest down, 


103 


104 The Vatigan, Or 

taking it up again, and putting it on wrong 
side out. When little Phil noticed it all, he 
laughed so that Mary could hardly dress him. 
Poor Aunt Sally had to come, as usual, to 
Uncle Hiram’s rescue and get him straight- 
ened out. That morning Mary brushed his 
high hat, that had not seen the light of day 
for many years, and fixed his new black cravat 
on him, putting a nice white handkerchief in 
his pocket and telling him that it was not for 
ornament and not to take his red handkerchief 
with him. 

Shortly the hack drove up and they started 
for the Jersey City depot. As the hack 
stopped at the depot Chester Howard opened 
the door to help Mary out first. She looked 
at him and said, “Aunt Sally, if you please.” 
As Uncle Hiram was getting out, he almost 
took the side of the carriage with him, for it 
had been many years since he was in one. 
Mary saw the embarrassed and amused look 
on Chester’s face, and she passed it off by say- 
ing, “Isn’t it a beautiful day, Mr. Howard,” 
while dear little Aunt Sally was trying to fix 


The Heir of Limerick 


105 

Uncle Hiram’s coat that he had almost torn off 
of him. The old folks were very nervous and 
wondered where Mary was going to take them, 
especially when they saw the Howards. In a 
minute Addie Howard appeared on the scene, 
telling Mary that she too was going down to 
help celebrate the birthdays. 

As soon as the old folks got into the train, 
and Mary got them settled comfortably in 
their seats, she asked them if they had any 
idea where they were going, or where the 
birthday was to be celebrated. They answered 
only with a nod, for their thoughts had gone 
back to the days of their youth, and the flow 
of tears kept them from speaking, but little 
Phil answered for them, saying he guessed 
they were going down to that farm grandpa 
was always talking about, and where his papa 
was born. 

After they started, Mary thought she would 
leave them alone for awhile* considering it was 
only proper to sit with Miss Howard and her 
brother on the way down, but as Mary ap- 
proached their seat, Miss Howard made it very 


io6 The Vatican, Or 

convenient for Chester to sit beside Mary, 
knowing that was what he was anxious to do, 
and, of course. Uncle Hiram had to look 
around in that direction as often as possible, 
chuckling to himself how that young Howard 
would have all of his pains for nothing. 

As soon as the train reached the depot, Mr. 
Howard was there with an ox team to meet 
them, for he thought it would seem more 
familiar to them, for that is what they used 
when they had the farm, and what took 
them to the depot when they left it years 
ago. 

As soon as they were driven out to the farm, 
the little log house was all lit up, and Uncle 
Hiram’s two brothers, Jim and Abe, with their 
families; also Aunt Sally’s brothers, Ike and 
Sam, and her sister Hannah, with their fam- 
ilies, and many of the old neighbors, Mr. 
Howard had invited to greet them on their 
return to the old home. It was the first time 
they had been together for years. Mary was 
no stranger to the relatives and friends of the 
old folks. Though she had never seen them, 


The Heir of Limerick 


107 


she had done all the corresponding and had 
received many thankful letters in return for all 
she was doing for them. 

The company was not in a hurry to go home 
that evening. The Howard’s housekeeper at 
the club had prepared a good supper for all 
the company to sit down to in the little log 
house, making it seem more like home to the 
old folks, while Mary took supper over at the 
club with the Howards, so as to give Uncle 
Hiram and Aunt Sally a chance to be alone 
with their friends and relations. 

Chester and his sister did everything in 
their power to try and have Mary sleep at the 
club all night, but she would not tolerate such 
a thought. She thanked them and said the 
roof that sheltered the old folks would have to 
shelter her, too, as long as she was with them, 
and she wanted to be there to congratulate 
Uncle Hiram the first thing in the morning. 
Mr. Howard said he would like very much to 
have the pleasure of all their company over to 
breakfast at the club, telling them the first bell 
they would hear was the rising bell, which 


io8 The Vatican, Or 

would ring an hour before breakfast, and the 
next one would be for breakfast. 

It was not necessary to ring a rising bell for 
the occupants of the little log house that 
morning; though they did not sleep very 
much that night, they needed no calling, for 
they were all up at daybreak, Aunt Sally and 
Uncle Hiram standing by the grave of their 
little daughter and thanking God for the 
privilege of being back to the home of their 
early life and love, while little Phil was get- 
ting acquainted with old Katy, the Scotch 
collie, and Tiger, the brindle bull pup, whose 
duty it was to hunt up the cattle and protect 
the place from prowling Indians that were yet 
to be seen even in Delaware. 

Mary slept very little that night, glorifying 
God for all His goodness and mercy to her, 
knowing He never gave reasons for anything, 
but He always gave promises, and many of 
those she had received, while as for the rest, 
these she would still hope for. 

After the old folks had talked over many 
things of the past, they came into the house, 


The Heir of Limerick 


109 


thinking it was almost time to wake Mary, so 
they could thank her for this beautiful sur- 
prise and have a good chat before either of the 
bells was rung. Just as they came in, Mary 
kissed Uncle Hiram and Aunt Sally, and con- 
gratulating them both on their return to their 
old home, asked them if they were happy. 
They told her they didn’t think they could 
ever be happier in this world again, and the 
happiness they would have in those few days 
would last them a lifetime, to think and talk 
about after they got back. While they were 
talking the first bell rang, and they all washed 
and got ready for breakfast. When the last 
bell rang, they were at their morning devo- 
tion. As soon as they had finished, they 
started across the lawn to the house and were 
met by the whole Howard family coming to 
greet them. Mr. Howard walked with Uncle 
Hiram, and just as Mary went to take her 
place beside Aunt Sally, Addie stepped in be- 
tween them and taking little Phil by the hand, 
said she was going to be his and Aunt Sally’s es- 
cort to the house, leaving Mary to be escorted 


no 


The Vatican, Or 


by Chester, and he took a great deal of pains 
to walk slower than the rest, which Mary did 
not relish very much. 

As soon as breakfast was over they all ad- 
journed to the parlor. After they entered the 
room, Mr. Howard turned to Mary and handed 
her a long unsealed envelope, which she 
opened immediately, taking out the document 
that made her sole owner of the Delaware 
farm and its belongings. As soon as she read 
the deed, she looked up at Mr. Howard, and 
in a low voice said, “Thank God for giving 
you this opportunity, and I thank you for 
embracing it.'* 

Immediately Mary turned around to the old 
folks and said, “Thanks be to our Heavenly 
Father, it is yours again, for whatever He 
does, is well done, and He doeth all things for 
the best." 

After a while the old folks returned to the 
little log house as proud and happy as on the 
first day they built and lived in it, Mr. Howard 
and Chester going out on the broad piazza to 
have their after-breakfast smoke, and chat over 


The Heir of Limerick 


III 


the little transaction that had just taken place, 
while Mary and Addie went to the parlor. 

As Mary stood beside the piano listening to 
Addie sing, she noticed a book of old Southern 
songs. As soon as Addie finished singing, 
they looked over the book together, Mary 
noticing it contained so many of her own 
mother’s favorite songs. On the cover was the 
name, Harriet Chester, Richmond, Virginia. 
Addie told Mary that was her mother’s book, 
when a girl, and also her mother’s maiden 
name, and that she was a Virginian through 
and through. Addie put her arms around 
Mary’s neck and told her how she missed her 
mother, and how lonesome their home was 
since she died. 

These words were too sad and near Mary’s 
own heart to dwell on. She asked Mary if she 
ever had a sister, kissing her beautiful sad face 
for the mention of a dead mother made it so at 
that time, and said she wished they could be 
sisters. Mary told her, though they could not 
be sisters, she would be glad to sing some of 
her mother’s favorite songs for her. 


The Vatican, Or 


112 

Addie, in her impulsive way, exclaimed, in 
a loud voice, “O Mary, we never knew you 
could play and sing.” 

Mary played her own accompaniment, and 
in a soft, sweet voice, fearing she might be 
heard by the gentlemen outside, she sang, 

“The poor old slave has gone to rest, 

We know that he is free, 

Disturb him not, but let him rest, 

Way down in Tennessee.” 

That beautiful girl’s voice was wafted out on 
the breezes, and touched the heart and ear of 
the father and son. They crossed the hall 
quickly and lightly, when Addie raised her 
finger to her lips for silence, and pointed to 
the settee behind Mary, in the corner. 

Oh, how Mr. Howard felt when he heard her 
sing and play, and thought how he came near 
being the cause of stilling that sweet voice for- 
ever, as she sang and played the songs of his 
early love! In a trembling voice Addie asked 
her if she would please sing again. Mary, 
dear girl, was wholly unconscious of an audi- 
ence, and told Addie if she would close the 


The Heir of Limerick 113 

door so the gentlemen could not hear her, she 
would. 

Addie smiled, and Mary feeling sure she 
could not be heard, let her voice out and sang: 

“I had a bud wid-in my garden growing, 

A slip I cherished wid a father’s care, 

When other darkeys round dat plant were hoeing, 
The zepher essence seem'd to fill de air.” 

The gentlemen could not keep still any 
longer, and they told Mary of her silent audi- 
ence and intruders. Mr. Howard, looking at 
Mary in silence, said, “It almost seems to me 
that she I loved so well, and that sleeps the 
long silent sleep that will never wake in this 
world, has sung for me to-day.” 

In a few days, Spencer and his mother met 
Mary at the farm and they started for Philadel- 
phia. No one but God alone can ever know 
the sad heart and thoughts of that poor lone 
orphan, as she was wending her way to face a 
rascal and kneel beside her dear mother’s 
grave. 

“The longest day at last bends down to even- 
ing.” A few days before Spencer left New 


The Vatican, Or 


114 

York, he wrote to his father’s cousin, ex-judge 
Bentley of Philadelphia, telling all about the 
whole affair, and asking him to meet them at 
the Continental Hotel as soon as they arrived, 
for that was where they would stop during their 
stay. After breakfast Mrs. Graham tried to 
keep Mary from going out until afternoon, 
doing all she could to have her lie down, for 
she looked so tired and weary, and knowing 
what was before the poor child, for days, 
maybe. She told them it would be impossible 
for her to stay in the house one hour longer, 
and be in the city where she once had a happy 
home, and where the forms of those she loved 
so well in life, lay sleeping. 

At last Spencer got ready and took her to 
the cemetery. As soon as they reached the 
gate, the color left Mary’s face and she com- 
menced to tremble as she asked the man in 
the office to show them to the graves of her 
dead. He told her they had been changed to 
another part of the burying ground, for at the 
time Mrs. Russell died, she was buried in a 
pauper’s grave, and a very wealthy English- 


The Heir of Limerick 115 

man, by the name of Maxwell came all the 
way to America to find her two children, and 
take them back with him, and he bought the 
finest lot in the cemetery, having her and her 
little son buried together, though the little 
boy was not buried in a pauper’s grave. 

When Spencer and Mary reached the lot, 
they found it fenced in with a beautiful high 
iron fence, with a number of vases filled with 
liveforever ivy and flowers. The statue on the 
top of the monument was that of an angel 
bearing a child to Heaven. The inscription 
was: 

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he 
leadeth me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul : he leadeth me to the paths of 
righteousness for his name’s sake. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow 
of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy 
rod and thy staff they comfort me." 

To the memory of Victoria Maxwell Russell, husband 
and child, by her beloved cousin, Jerome Maxwell. 

Spencer and the sexton withdrew to one side 
to leave the poor girl alone by the grave of 
her dead. It moved the hard-hearted grave- 


ii6 The Vatican, Or 

digger more than anything he had seen for 
many a long day, though he was used to sad 
scenes. Spencer did all he could to choke 
the tears back, when he saw the girl he loved 
lying prostrate on the cold sod, crying and 
pleading, “O, mother, will you never come 
back to your own Mary?” 

They are all gone into the world of light, 

And I alone sit lingering here. 

Their very memory is fair and bright, 

And my sad thoughts doth clear. ” 

After Spencer took Mary home she lay down 
and his mother sat beside her, doing all she 
could to comfort the poor girl, while Spencer 
told Judge Bentley all about her affairs, giving 
him the papers to look over. 

The next morning by ten o’clock, the great 
wholesale grocery house that was supposed to 
be W. M. Mavor & Sons, was closed by the 
sheriff, and an expert accountant was engaged 
to look over the books. 

When Mary was told she must swear out a 
warrant for Mavor’ s arrest, with horror, she 
said, ”0, how can I? Though he has robbed me 


The Heir of Limerick 117 

of home and brother, and been the cause of so 
much sorrow to me, and my poor mother 
before her death, I don’t want to bring dis- 
grace to his innocent daughter, if I can help it, 
for she is not to blame for her father’s crime.” 

As soon as Mavor saw the name, Mary 
Victoria Russell, heir of John and Victoria 
Russell, on the writ, he was almost beside 
himself with fright, and begged them for 
God’s sake to save him on account of his 
dying wife. 

Spencer and the Judge told him he had no 
mercy upon the lone widow before she died or 
when she was dying, nor on her orphans after 
she was gone. Judge Bentley told him it was 
not in their power, as he was now in the hands 
of the law and in the power of the orphan girl 
he robbed. 

He fell upon his knees in agony, crying like 
a child, and begged to be taken to her at once. 
As soon as he saw Mary, he looked down, 
ashamed of himself, and crossing over to 
where she stood, he said, “Can it be possible 
that you are little Mary Russell?” 


ii8 The Vatican, Or 

Her tall and slender figure quivered and her 
eyes flashed like diamonds, and with the con- 
tempt and dignity of an injured queen, she 
said, “Yes, Mr. Mavor, I am Mary Russell, 
the orphan of honest parents, and here are the 
papers you were so anxious about when my 
angel mother was passing into the home where 
rascals like you can never go. So your sins 
have found you out, and though you could get 
rid of your helpless victims, you never could 
get rid of your conscience. You see, children 
don’t stay children always. I, for one, have 
lived and grown to womanhood, thank God, to 
condemn those who have wronged me and 
mine, and reward those who have loved and 
protected.” 

He knelt before her and pleaded for mercy. 
She told him he had better kneel unto his God 
and plead for forgiveness, for robbing the 
widow and the orphans. 

He said, “O, Mary, don’t put me in prison, 
telling her his wife was expected to die most 
any moment. 

She said, “I hope God will forgive her her 


The Heir of Limerick 119 

sins, but what can she say to my darling, dead 
mother if she should meet her face to face, 
before the just Judge of judges, for the way she 
helped to rob and wrong her children. 
Mary told Spencer and the judge to give him 
a chance and see what he would do, before 
notice for his arrest was served. 

That evening, all her mother’s jewels, laces 
and family silver were brought to the hotel. 
The next day she got possession of her beauti- 
ful home and her father’s business, along with 
several thousand dollars that were on deposit in 
the bank. 

Mavor asked Mary if she would shake hands 
with him and forgive him. She told him she 
had forgiven him and she hoped God would, 
and if ever he needed a friend, he could come 
to her and she would help him, and there was 
only one kind of wealth that brought true hap- 
piness in this world, that was a clear conscience 
and an honest heart. 

Before Mary left Philadelphia she paid the 
debt off of the church they all attended when 
they first came to this country, and where her 


120 The Vatican, Or 

mother often sang, also giving money for other 
charities. Her next attention and thought 
was towards the old folks, for she knew the 
time was very near at hand when she would 
have to leave them. 

The next morning Mary and the Grahams 
started for New York, meeting the old folks at 
the Delaware depot. As soon as they ar- 
rived, she commenced to pack up the furniture, 
so that she could see it all shipped to the farm 
before she left, leaving money with Uncle 
Hiram to pay for the building and furnishing 
of a new house, to take the place of the old 
log one, before she returned to America again, 
with instructions to keep Phil in school, tell- 
ing them that as long as her name was Mary 
Russell, she would never call any other place 
home save theirs as long as they lived. 

They all looked very sad. Aunt Sally trying 
to look cheerful for Mary’s sake, and Mary 
trying to do the best she could to look pleas- 
ant and happy when she was around the old 
folks, knowing that in less than a week she 
would be on her long journey across the sea. 


The Heir of Limerick 121 

At last Aunt Sally broke down, telling her 
her heart was almost broken and they would 
rather have her in the little cottage than all 
the farms or the wealth on earth, for she had 
been more to them than tongue could ever tell, 
and nothing could ever take her place in their 
hearts. 

When the poor girl went to look for Uncle 
Hiram and little Phil, she found them out in 
the woodshed, crying as if their hearts would 
break. Phil was trying to comfort his poor 
old grandfather by telling him they would pray 
the way their Mary did, and God would bring 
her back to them again. Mary brought them 
into the house and told them if they wanted 
to make her happy they must stop crying, for 
it seemed to her she would really go crazy, 
she was so sad, telling them to fear for noth- 
ing, for He who watched over the little spar- 
row would guard them in mercy and love, and 
when they felt lonely and helpless to seek 
strength and comfort from Him above. 

The old neighbors and friends came in to 
say good-bye and give Mary their farewell 


122 


The Vatican, Or 


blessing on her long journey, in hope that she 
would return safely to them again. 

The Grahams tried hard to have Mary spend 
the last night with them, but she told them 
that the old folks and she were invited to spend 
the night at Granny Cook’s, and they were 
going to have a farewell prayer meeting, and 
all her scholars would try to be there. 

James Daily told her, after the meeting was 
over, he thought the war would commence 
before she came back, and if it did, he and the 
boys would fight on the side that she advised. 
Mary smiled and thanked them for their confi- 
dence in her, and asked them if they enjoyed 
the freedom of soul since they left the bond- 
age of sin. They told her they would not give 
a minute of that happiness for millions of dol- 
lars. She told them then to fight for the free- 
dom of soul and body, for she didn’t think 
God ever created a human being to be lashed 
and beaten and treated in such an inhuman way. 

Before Mary left she presented each of them 
with a New Testament, as a token of remem- 
brance. 


The Heir of Limerick 


123 


It was a beautiful October morning, when 
Mary went aboard the same ship that brought 
her, a happy child, with loving parents and 
brothers, to America. 

Spencer tried to have Mary promise that she 
would return in a few months, at least, and 
they would be married. She told him her first 
duty was to find her brother, dead or alive, 
and if the war commenced before she returned, 
his first duty was to his country. Just as he 
bade her the sad good-bye, he pinned a beau- 
tiful rose near her throat in silence, handed 
her a letter, and, with blinding tears, he waved 
a farewell, as the boat was moving out. 

Mary hastened quickly to her state-room and 
had a good cry. When she opened the letter, 
the words he could not speak in person were 
there in silence: 

“Fare thee well, love, now thou art going over the wild 
and trackless sea, 

Smooth be its waves and fair the wind blowing, though 
’tis to bear thee far, far from me. 

But when on the waste of ocean some happy homeward 
bark you see, 

Swear by the truth of thy heart’s devotion, to send a 
letter back to me.” 


124 


The Vatican, Or 


She had a very smooth voyage except the 
first few days out, occupying the most of her 
time in reading her Bible and writing letters 
to send back to loved ones as soon as she 
arrived in England. 

There were many distinguished and talented 
people on board, among them being Edwin 
Forest, the tragedian, and a few of his friends, 
Mr. and Mrs. Moxley and their son who lived 
in Washington, also a party of wealthy south- 
ern planters and slave-holders, together with 
their wives and children. 

Edwin Forest and his friends were attracted 
to Mary on account of her youth and beauty. 
They noticed that she was traveling alone, but 
was always accompanied to dinner by the cap- 
tain, sitting at his right hand, and receiving 
the attention of a beloved daughter. 

The ladies in the party were very anxious to 
speak to her and to know who she was. Mr. 
Forest, being acquainted with Captain Blake 
for many years, asked him who his fair young 
charge was, and said that the ladies in the 
party would like to be introduced, as they 


The Heir of Limerick 125 

thought she was lonesome, and wanted to do 
all they could to make it pleasant for her dur- 
ing the remainder of the voyage, if it would be 
agreeable to him. 

The captain told him that Mary’s grand- 
father Russell and himself were schoolboys 
together, and that her cousin, the Honorable 
Jerome Maxwell, of London, had asked him if 
he would kindly look after her on the voyage. 
He told Mr. Forest she was an orphan and 
going over to prove her heirship and claim a 
great estate in the North of England that was 
left her by the death of her granduncle, she 
being the only heir to it, and that she was the 
most wonderful young girl he ever met in all of 
his life, that she was capable of traveling the 
world o’er and o’er alone, and in place of 
needing protection or advice, she was very 
capable of giving both. 

When the captain had gone to another part 
of the ship, Mr. Forest, in his joking way, 
asked her if she was not afraid to take such a 
long voyage alone, and especially to walk the 
deck after dark. There were so many gallant 


126 


The Vatican, Or 


young chaps on board, he said, who would like 
to have the pleasure of her company in the 
promenade; he also told her she must be very 
careful and not step outside of her state-room, 
or the cabin alone after dark, for he had often 
heard that sharks snatch people overboard. 

Mrs. Moxley frowned at Mr. Forest for mak- 
ing such- a speech, while her husband and the 
rest of the party tried to suppress a smile. 
They kept silent a minute or two, and scanned 
Mary’s face closely. 

Presently she drew herself up, and looked at 
him with indignation for trying to make her 
the object of a jest, for the amusement of his 
friends, and with the energy of Lady Macbeth 
and the prophetic spirit of Meg Merrilies, she 
told him there were many sharks in human 
form that were just as dangerous as the sharks 
of the sea, and she thanked God that she was 
not afraid of any of them. That the great 
Monarch who protected her o’er land and sea 
was not like the monarchs that he represented, 
for they were as helpless in their day as he was 
himself, but the One that she looked up to for 


The Heir of Limerick 


127 


protection still lived, and always would, and 
when He said to the troubled heart, soul or 
waters, “Peace, be still,'’ there was not a pang 
to the heart, nor a sting to the soul, nor a rip- 
ple on the mighty waters. 

Mrs. Moxley and party all looked at Mary 
in astonishment. Dear old Father Sheehan, 
who was leaning against the railing, reading 
the life of the noble Robert Emmett, was 
attracted by the conversation. He said, 
“Good luck, and God bless you, my dear col- 
leen baun. I think he’ll find you to be as good 
an actor as himself.’’ 

Mary told the good priest in her opinion 
there was too much acting in this life, and not 
enough of sincerity or reality. The party 
looked at each other in a very serious way, 
and the great tragedian said: “It is true, my 
girl,’’ and apologized to her for his jest, ask- 
ing her to join the party, as they were going to 
have the pleasure of a song from Mr. and Mrs. 
Moxley, and they hoped, a song from her dear 
little self. They all teased Mary for one, and 
she told them if they would excuse her from 


128 


The Vatican, Or 


singing she would give a short recitation on 
the existence of God. 

“There is a power, all other powers above, 

Whose name is Goodness, and His nature Love : 
Who called the infant universe to light 
From central nothing and circumfluent night. 

On His great Providence all worlds depend. 

As trembling atoms to their centre tend ; 

In Nature’s face His glory shines confess’d, 

She wears His sacred Image on her breast ; 

His Spirit breathes in every living soul ; 

His bounty feeds, His presence fills the whole. 
Though seen, invisible, though felt, unknown ; 

All that exist, exist in Him alone.” 

Mary said she was glad to know there is a 
God. It is a thought which presents itself to 
every mind, if they would only accept of it. 
Mrs. Moxley said it was true, and she would 
accept of it now more than ever. 

They all thanked Mary for her beautiful reci- 
tation. Mr. Forest took her by the hand, and 
looking at his friends, said: “This fair young 
creature is more than a match for me. She 
has taught me what I could not teach her, and 
that is the true existence of God, and I thank 
her from the bottom of my heart for it.” 

Mary bowed her acknowledgment and took 


The Heir of Limerick 


129 


her departure, as she had a few more letters to 
write before landing, and a little packing to 
look after. 

On the following afternoon they reached 
Liverpool, and as soon as the gang-plank was 
put out, the first one that stepped aboard was 
Jerome Maxwell, a tall, handsome man of 
about forty-six or forty-seven, with ruddy com- 
plexion and closely-cut burnside whiskers. 

As soon as he saw Mary he embraced and 
kissed her, for he knew her because of her 
resemblance to her lovely mother, for she cer- 
tainly was the picture of her, and it took him 
back to his early love and happy boyhood 
days. After his valet looked after her bag- 
gage, they took the first train for London, and 
Mary was taken into the same beautiful home 
she left when she came to America, it being 
the property and bachelor home now of her 
cousin Jerome. 

In a week or ten days, after Mary was well 
rested and had seen many of her mother’s old 
friends, and those of her own childhood, she 
was taken before the probate court to prove 


X30 


The Vatican, Or 


her heirship, which she did without any 
trouble, and claimed the estate. Everything 
was done for Mary’s pleasure and happiness. 
Her cousin was very proud of her, for he 
looked upon her as if she were his own child, 
engaging a French companion to keep her 
company, also an old English matron as a 
chaperon. She had the attention of many of 
the young knights, and the jealousy of the 
young lasses, but she treated them all alike, 
telling the girls that she did not come over to 
take any of their sweethearts from them, even 
if she could, so they could set their hearts at 
ease in regard to that. 

As soon as she visited her estate in company 
with her cousin and companion, and made the 
acquaintance of her tenants, she made a few 
changes in regard to her agents. Men that 
were unkind to the tenants, and dissipated, — 
their places were filled by kind-hearted, con- 
siderate, Christian men. Any of her tenants 
who were back in their rent on account of 
sickness, or loss of employment, and who were 
people of principle, she marked that out 


The Heir of Limerick 131 

against them, giving them a chance to com- 
mence anew. After that she traveled quite 
extensively through Europe. She returned 
home by way of the beautiful Isle of the Sea, 
the home of the shamrock, and Bible-reading 
Scotland, where the bluebells and the thistle 
grow, and France, where the lily, so white, 
the emblem of purity and Easter delight, raises 
her proud head majestically. 

As Mar^ reached London, the bulletins were 
up in the newspaper windows, and the boys 
were calling out, “Full account of the great 
American war and the fall of Fort Sumter,” 
and that the President of the United States 
had sent out a call' for seventy-five thousand 
men. This announcement thrilled Mary to the 
heart, and nothing could persuade or induce 
her to stay an}^ longer, as she thought of the 
struggle that was upon the great American 
nation, the country she loved so well, and 
where her dead lay sleeping. She hoped and 
prayed that Spencer had offered himself to 
fight for the glorious old flag, that waved o’er 
the land of the free and the home of the brave. 


132 


The Vatican, Or 


Oh, how that poor girl wished that she had a 
father or a brother to go forth and fight for 
such a noble cause, but she was willing to 
sacrifice the man she loved dearly, to fight for 
the grand old Union and the land of her adop- 
tion. 


The Heir of Limerick 


133 


CHAPTER V 

THE WAR— HAROLD AN ENEMY 

In a few days Mary received a long letter 
from Spencer, telling her that if she had a 
spark of love left for him, to show it by com- 
ing home at once. Though he knew he could 
not see her very often, it would make him very 
happy to know they were both on the same 
side of the Atlantic. 

This was the first time Mary’s cousin and 
her friends had the slightest idea that she had 
a lover, and one that had asked for her hand 
and heart when she was homeless, and, as he 
thought, penniless. 

Mary put her arms around her cousin’s neck 
and begged him to hurry and procure her 
ticket so that she might be able to leave on 
the first steamer for America. He tried hard 
to pacify her, but to no avail, telling her she 
was a very foolish girl to think of going back 
133 


134 


The Vatican, Or 


to America, or marrying an American, when 
there were so many fine young men there who 
were very anxious to claim her hand, and men 
of fine families and great fortunes, like herself. 
She told him her choice was a man of fine fam- 
ily, and he had a far greater fortune than any 
she met so far in England, that his fortune was 
of brain and principle, and such fortunes could 
neither be lost nor stolen, telling him not to 
worry for. her, as she was going to do what she 
considered was God’s will and her duty. 

After an absence of several months Mary 
returned to America. She was met at the 
steamer by many old friends and Spencer, in 
his colonel’s uniform, looking very gallant, 
with little Phil standing beside him, looking 
like a drum major, with his soldier cap and 
drum that Spencer bought him the day before 
wETen he came up from the farm to meet Mary. 
As soon as the boat landed, little Phil threw 
his drum behind him and ran, screaming, to 
welcome his Mary. After he kissed her, he 
laid his head against her shoulder and com- 
menced to cry. She told him she was home 


The Heir of Limerick 


135 


now and he ought to be happy, and another 
thing, soldiers mustn’t cry. But there was a 
soldier standing next to her, who was trying 
hard to keep the big tears back, but, like 
Phil’s, they were tears of joy. 

After Mary had visited a few days at the 
Grahams’, and seen all of her old friends, 
Spencer accompanied her and Phil down to the 
farm, where another royal welcome awaited 
her. She did the crying then just as well as the 
rest. When she saw poor old Uncle Hiram so 
bent and care-worn and dear little Aunt Sally, 
standing on the platform to meet her, she told 
them all to cheer up, that the ocean would 
never divide them again, and all she was sorry 
for was that Phil was not old enough to shoul- 
der a musket and Uncle Hiram was too old, so 
she guessed she’d have to be the only soldier 
in the family, and do something for the war 
herself. When they asked her what she 
meant, she told them that was her little secret. 

Spencer and Mary had a very happy time 
together for three or four days until he was 
called away to join his regiment, then came 


136 


The Vatican, Or 


the dreadful time of gloom and sorrow again, 
for that certainly was a very sad parting be- 
tween those two lovers. 

When the train started, Spencer said good- 
bye again, and the band played “The Girl I 
Left behind Me.“ 

Mary never told him what she was intending 
to do in regard to giving her services to care 
for the sick and wounded soldiers, for she 
knew that he would not sanction anything like 
that, and she did not want to make him un- 
happy in regard to her, for he was unhappy 
enough. 

Two or three days after he was gone, she 
presented herself to the Sanitary Commission, 
and told them what her intention was. They 
told her she was too young and physically 
incapacitated. General Hancock had just 
dropped in on the way to headquarters, and 
said, “Too pretty.” Mary got very indignant, 
and said youth and beauty had nothing to do 
with it, that many young men of her age, and 
younger, too, were accepted because they could 
shoulder a gun, with maybe a cowardly heart 


The Heir of Limerick 137 

when they came to battle face to face with the 
foe, and if she could not fight men’s bodies, 
she could care for them when wounded and 
sick, and with the word of God and the dear 
old Bible she could redeem their souls from 
sin. She told them it was not a motive of 
remuneration v/ith her, but glory for God and 
loyalty to country. 

General Hancock said, “Three cheers for 
the little heroine, she shall go.” They imme- 
diately let her take the solemn oath adminis- 
tered before entering on her hazardous duties. 
In less than a week, Mary was off to Washing- 
ton with orders to report to Miss Dix. After 
being there a few days, she was sent to Alex- 
andria, where she commenced her noble work 
for both soul and body, rendering most effi- 
cient service. As may be supposed, whatever 
she did was well done, laboring continually, 
and going from place to place. She was both 
modest and courageous. The little angel, as 
the soldiers used to call her, never thinking of 
herself, only pressed on to alleviate the suffer- 
ings of others. 


The Vatican, Or 


138 

After the bloody battle of Williamsburg, 
when the soldiers were brought in, it was a 
sight that would chill the stoutest heart. She 
was calm, with eyes full of tears and heart full 
of pity, exerting every muscle in her body and 
every fibre in her heart, to help the poor, 
suffering fellows who were giving their life’s 
blood for their country. 

When the doctor saw with what wonderful 
skill she handled the wounded, he asked her if 
she would be willing to go to the front, know- 
ing how few nurses had the courage and skill 
she had. She told him she was willing to do 
anything, or go any place where he considered 
she could do the most good. 

Mary was a sister and daughter to all the 
soldiers. In order to make them feel more at 
home with her, she always addressed them as 
brother, and it was wonderful what that beau- 
tiful girl would do to relieve the suffering of 
the boys. If there was any nourishment she 
thought the poor fellows ought to have, if she 
could not get it from the steward or the Com- 
mission, she bought it out of her own money. 


The Heir of Limerick 139 

and thanked God that she was able to do so. 
When not actually employed with caring for 
their wounds or soothing their fevered brows, 
she would sit beside their cots and write letters 
for them, or speak words of comfort. 

There was not a dry eye in the ward when 
she got ready to leave them. They knew they 
would miss her gentle little hands and fervent 
prayers. The boys who were able to be about 
watched the ambulance that bore her away to 
the battle-field, until it was out of sight. 

With prayer on their lips, and sorrow in 
their hearts, they bade her God-speed. Her 
last words to them were to be good soldiers 
for their Heavenly Father, and they would 
never fail in being good soldiers for their 
country for it was under the guidance of God 
and His protection that she worked for them. 
This lovely girl repeated the humility and love 
recorded in the Sacred Scripture of Mary, the 
sister of Martha and Lazarus. 

At the dreadful battle of Fort Donaldson, 
she came near falling into the enemy's hands, 
but as quick as a flash she threw herself back 


140 The Vatican, Or 

among the men, and while they cheered her, 
the soldiers on the other side smiled at her 
heroism. After the battle. General Grant was 
told of the narrow escape they had from losing 
their little heroic nurse, and how she saved 
herself. When he saw her, he asked her what 
she would have done if she had been captured 
by the enemy. She told him she would have 
done for them what she had done for the boys 
in blue, if they gave her the chance, for when 
the Son of God was being insulted and perse- 
cuted upon Calvary, He said, “Father, forgive 
them, for they know not what they do.” She 
told him those words were not meant alone for 
the few that stood around the cross insulting 
and crucifying Him, but for all sinners. 

The brave general’s face turned pale, and he 
clasped her hand, saying, “Little angel of 
mercy and love, I shall always remember those 
words, and I hope that you may never fall into 
the hands of the enemy in this life or the life 
to come.” 

Colonel Granger, of the looth New York, 
said there was not a soldier that she ever laid 


The Heir of Limerick 141 

her gentle hand upon or spoke sweet words of 
comfort to who would not lay down his life for 
her. Her presence was magical. It was like 
a great sunburst after many days of gloom. 
All the men were happy when they saw her 
coming. Her kindly voice and sweet face 
gave them cheer. 

Just before the dreadful battle of Shiloh, 
Sunday morning, April 6th, as Mary was on 
her knees, she heard the sudden report of 
artillery break upon her ear, and as quick as a 
flash she snatched her field-glass, that was pre- 
sented to her by a Scotch laddie when she was 
in the Highlands, and she hastened to a little 
hill near by, and saw General Buell’s angry 
legion of the South coming towards them, and 
in a very short time the heavens were all 
ablaze. To the left she spied General Sydney 
Johnson, moving towards the Tennessee River 
with his part of the army. A short distance 
away stood the brave General Grant, surveying 
with a sad countenance the mighty rebel army 
before him, knowing what dreadful revenge 
they had in their hearts on account of the shot 


142 


The Vatican. Or 


and shell and the hearts of steel that met them 
at Fort Donaldson. 

The brave boys were greeted with powder 
and shell on every side. Oh, how Mary did 
wish for her brother that day, that he, too, 
might do what she saw other boys doing, and 
she prayed to God that the country might be 
saved, and the old flag, the emblem of free- 
dom, might never have to trail its starry folds 
in the dust. 

The horror and bloody sight of this battle 
was enough to have tried the nerves of many 
an old veteran, but her courage and skill could 
hardly be repeated in one so young and frail, 
for the death reaper was carrying death and 
destruction across Shiloh’s bloody field, and 
winding its sheet around the cold forms of 
many a noble son, brother and father. 

At last, when the battle was almost over, 
Mary was ordered into one of the houses that 
was being used for a hospital, there to com- 
mence more hard labor. As she was stripping 
the clothes off a poor fellow who was shot 
through the shoulder, she noticed the doctor 


The Heir of Limerick 


143 


and other nurse standing beside the stretcher 
of a young soldier in gray, the doctor bending 
down very closely over him to catch his feeble 
words. In a minute he stepped over to Mary 
and asked her, with a blanched face, if she had 
any relatives fighting on the other side. She 
told him no. He said the young dying rebel’s 
name was Russell, and he looked just like her. 
In a second our little heroine was beside him, 
holding his dying head in her arms and crying 
aloud to God to give her strength to bear this 
other dreadful blow, for it was her brother 
Harold. Though speech had almost left him, 
his tearful eyes met hers, and she said: “Oh, 
Harold, my brother, it is Mary. Don’t you 
know me? Oh, stay with me!” As she wiped 
the blood from his noble, young brow, the 
doctor did all he could to try and revive him 
for a while, so that he could talk to her, but he 
only spoke a few words, saying; “Mary, I am 
not afraid to die. I have lived up to my 
mother’s last words, and I am sure God will 
receive my soul.’’ At that. Death claimed her 


own. 


144 


The Vatican, Or 


This scene will never be forgotten as long as 
life remains with those who witnessed the sad 
meeting and parting of the long-lost brother 
and sister. 

After the bloody battle was all over, word 
concerning Mary was sent to General Grant’s 
headquarters, and he came over immediately. 
A father never could have done more to com- 
fort a daughter, than he did to comfort her. 
He ordered an officer’s "coffin for the young 
rebel, and as the day was slowly waning and 
darkness was throwing her sable wings over the 
earth, they lay the young adjutant, who gave 
up his life and ambition in a vain cause, at the 
brow of a hill beneath the tall oaks that grew 
near the banks of the Tennessee river. 

Lay him where the clover blossoms, let the gallant sol- 
dier rest, 

Where the twilight dews will fall upon his youthful, 
manly breast. 

Lay him where the evening sun gives him her parting 
ray, 

Where the violet droops her head, at the parting of the 
day. 

Whilst Harold’s body was being prepared 
for burial, Mary opened his knapsack to see 


The Heir of Limerick 145 

what was in it. She found their mother’s 
Bible that she gave him when they parted at 
the asylum, which she put under his head in the 
coffin, and memoranda showing that he had 
been all these years on a coffee plantation in 
Buenos Ayres, South America, and at the break- 
ing out of the war had enlisted in the southern 
army. 

Mary followed the old flag until after the 
dreadful battle of Corinth. Then, coming 
home to the old folks, she commenced to pre- 
pare for another kind of battle. After she got 
rested, she spent most of her time in sewing 
and caring for the soldiers’ poor families, 
while Aunt Sally was busily engaged in mak- 
ing a beautiful silk flag, and she would not tell 
Mary whom it was for, but Uncle Hiram was up 
to his same old tricks, and when he found 
Mary alone, he told her all about it. 

Spencer returned after the battle of Five 
Forks, April ist, 1865, with an empty sleeve, 
but not an empty heart, and on Palm Sunday, 
April 9th, as the brave General Lee surren- 
dered his sword to our gallant General Grant, 


146 


The Vatican, Or 


Mary made a complete surrender of her heart 
and hand to the brave young Colonel Graham, 
given away by Uncle Hiram, while Addie 
Howard was the maid of honor and Phil the 
best man. They stood beneath the silvery elm 
in front of the pretty new house on the old 
Delaware farm, and Aunt Sally’s beautiful silk 
flag waved o’er them. 

Phil is a bright young man, attending a mili- 
tary academy, while Mary and the gallant 
young colonel share the beautiful home on 
account of the old folks, until the time shall 
come when they shall sleep the long sleep in 
the little church-yard under the weeping wil- 
low tree. 

And now this lovely young woman has said 
^ good-bye to the old unhappy far-off days. 
She has fought a good fight and won a great 
victory in making all happy with whom she 
came in contact, and she glorifies her Heav- 
enly Father for all the blessings He has 
bestowed upon her, and is no longer a stranger 
in a strange land. 


THE END 


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